re) 


^ubert  fyowt  Bancroft 


NATIVE  RACES  OF  THE  PACIFIC  STATES;  five  volumes 
HISTORY  OF  CENTRAL  AMERICA;  three  volumes 
HISTORY  OF  MEXICO;  six  volumes 
HISTORY  OF  TEXAS  AJO>  THE  NORTH  MEXICAN  STATES  ; 

two  volumes 

HISTORY  OF  ARIZONA  AND  NEW  MEXICO  ;  one  volume 
HISTORY  OF  CALIFORNIA  ;  seveu  volumes 

HISTORY  OF  NEVADA,  COLORADO  AND  WYOMING;  one 

volume 

HISTORY  OF  UTAH  ;  one  volume 

HISTORY  OF  THE  NORTHWEST  COAST  ;  two  volumes 
HISTORY  OF  OREGON  ;  two  volumes 
HISTORY  OF  WASHINGTON,  IDAHO  AND  MONTANA;  one 

volume 

HISTORY  OF  BRITISH  COLUMBIA  ;  one  volume 
HISTORY  OF  ALASKA  ;  one  volume 
CALIFORNIA  PASTORAL;  one  volume 
CALIFORNIA  INTER-POCULA  ;  one  volume 
POPULAR  TRIBUNALS  ;  two  volumes 
ESSAYS  AND  MISCELLANY  ;  one  volume 
LITERARY  INDUSTRIES  ;  .one  volume 
CHRONICLES  OF  THE  BUILDERS  o*  THE  COMMONWEALTH 


LITEEAEY 


INDUSTEIES 


A   MEMOIR 


HUBERT  HOWE  BANCROFT 


All  my  life  I  have  followed  few  and  simple  aims,  but  I  have  always 
known  my  own  purpose  clearly,  and  that  is  a  source  of  infinite  strength. 

William  Waldorf  Astor, 


SAN    FRANCISCO 

THE  HISTORY   COMPANY,   PUBLISHERS 
1891 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress  in  the  year  1890,  by 

HUBERT  H.  BANCROFT, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


All  Rights  Reserved. 


Bancroft  Llbrwf 


CONTENTS  OF  THIS  VOLUME. 


CHAPTER  I.  PAGE. 

THE     FIELD .*»«••••••••  1 

CHAPTER   II. 

THE     ATMOSPHERE 12 

CHAPTER  III. 

SPRINGS   AND  LITTLE  BROOKS       ..........*...         42 

CHAPTER  IV. 

THE    COUNTRY     BOY   BECOMES    A   BOOKSELLER 89 

CHAPTER  V. 

HAIL      CALIFORNIA  !      ESTO      PERPETUA       .  120 

CHAPTER   VI. 

THE   HOUSE    OF    H.    H.    BANCROFf   AND    COMPANY 142 

CHAPTER   VII. 

FROM     BIBLIOPOLIST     TO     BIBLIOPHILE 168 

CHAPTER   VIII. 

THE   LIBRARY „  198 

CHAPTER  IX. 

DESPERATE    ATTEMPTS    AT    GREAT   THINGS 218 

(V) 


vi  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  X.  PAGE. 

A    LITERARY    WORKSHOP 230 

CHAPTER  XL 

SOME  OF    MY    ASSISTANTS 245 

CHAPTER   XII. 

MY  FIRST  BOOK 277 

CHAPTER   XIII. 

THE  PERILS   OF    PUBLISHING       ....<> 307 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

A   LITERARY    PILGRIM 32G 

CHAPTER  XV. 

THE     TWO     GENERALS.  3G5 

CHAPTER   XVI. 

ITALIAN  STRATEGY  383 

CHAPTER    XVII. 

ALVARADO     AND     CASTRO 407 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

CLOSE    OF    THE    CKRRUTI-VALLEJO    CAMPAIGN 428 

CHAPTER    XIX. 

HOME 44(5 

CHAPTER  XX. 

SAN      FRANCISCO      ARCHIVES 468 

CHAPTER   XXL 

HISTORIC  RESEARCHES    IN   THE    SOUTH 478 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

HISTORIC    EXPLORATIONS    NORTHWARD  .       .       .       530 


CONTENTS.  vii 

CHAPTER    XXIIL  PAGE. 

FURTHER     LIBRARY     DETAIL 562 

CHAPTER   XXIV. 

MY  METHOD  OF  WRITING     HISTORY 592 

CHAPTER    XXV. 

FURTHER     INGATHERINGS       .. „  618 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

PRELIMINARY     AND  SUPPLEMENTAL     VOLUMES 650 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

BODY     ANJ»     MIND 664 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

EXPEDITIONS   TO    MEXICO 700 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

TOWARD  THE    END 752 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

BURNED    OUT! «       o      o      .      „      *      769 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

THE  HISTORY  COMPANY    AND   THE  BANCROFT  COMPANY      .....      788 


THE      HOME     OF      GOLD 


•kit 


I 


ytea^ffiMPH 


(FROM  AN  OLD 


LITERARY  INDUSTRIES. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  FIELD. 

Which  gives  me 

A  more  content  in  course  of  true  delight 
Than  to  be  thirsty  after  tottering  honour, 
Or  tie  my  pleasure  up  in  silken  bags, 
To  please  the  fool  and  death. 

Pericles. 

THIS  volume  closes  the  narrative  portion  of  my 
historical  series;  there  yet  remains  to  be  completed 
the  biographical  section. 

It  is  now  over  thirty  years  since  I  entered  upon 
the  task  to-day  accomplished.  During  this  period 
my  efforts  have  been  continuous.  Sickness  and  death 
have  made  felt  their  presence;  financial  storms  have 
swept  over  the  land,  leaving  ghastly  scars;  calamities 
more  or  less  severe  have  at  various  times  called  at 
my  door;  yet  have  I  never  been  wholly  overwhelmed, 
or  reached  a  point  where  was  forced  upon  me  a  cessa 
tion  of  library  labors,  even  for  a  single  day.  Nor  has 
my  work  been  irksome ;  never  have  I  lost  interest 
or  enthusiasm;  never  have  I  regretted  the  consecra 
tion  of  my  life  to  this  cause,  or  felt  that  my  abilities 
might  have  been  better  employed  in  some  one  of  the 
great  enterprises  attending  the  material  development 
of  this  western  world,  or  in  accumulating  property, 
which  was  never  a  difficult  thing  for  me  to  do.  It 
has  been  from  first  to  last  a  labor  of  love,  its  im 
portance  ever  standing  before  me  paramount  to  that 
of  any  other  undertaking  in  which  I  could  engage, 
while  of  this  world's  goods  I  have  felt  that  I  had 


2  THE  FIELD. 

always  my  share,  and  have  been  ready  to  thank  God 
for  the  means  necessary  to  carry  forward  my  work  to 
its  fall  completion.  And  while  keenly  alive  to  my  lack 
of  ability  to  perform  the  task  as  it  ought  to  be  done, 
I  have  all  the  time  been  conscious  that  it  were  a  thou 
sand  times  better  it  should  be  done  as  I  could  do  it 
than  not  at  all. 

What  was  this  task?  It  was  first  of  all  to  save 
to  the  world  a  mass  of  valuable  human  experiences, 
which  otherwise,  in  the  hurry  and  scramble  attend 
ing  the  securing  of  wealth,  power,  or  place  in  this 
new  field  of  enterprise,  would  have  dropped  out 
of  existence.  These  experiences  were  all  the  more 
valuable  from  the  fact  that  they  were  new;  the  con 
ditions  attending  their  origin  and  evolution  never  had 
before  existed  in  the  history  of  mankind,  and  never 
could  occur  again.  There  was  here  on  this  coast  the 
ringing-up  of  universal  intelligence  for  a  final  display 
of  what  man  can  do  at  his  best,  with  all  the  powers 
of  the  past  united,  and  surrounded  by  conditions 
such  as  had  never  before  fallen  to  the  lot  of  man  to 
enjoy. 

Secondly,  having  secured  to  the  race  a*  vast  amount 
of  valuable  knowledge  which  otherwise  would  have 
passed  into  oblivion,  my  next  task  was  to  extract 
from  this  mass  what  would  most  interest  people 
in  history  and  biography,  to  properly  classify  and 
arrange  the  same,  and  then  to  write  it  out  as  a  his 
torical  series,  in  the  form  of  clear  and  condensed 
narrative,  and  so  place  within  the  reach  of  all  this 
gathered  knowledge,  which  otherwise  were  as  much 
beyond  the  reach  of  the  outside  world  as  if  it  never 
had  been  saved.  Meanwhile  the  Work  of  collect 
ing  continued,  while  I  erected  a  refuge  of  safety  for 
the  final  preservation  of  the  library,  in  the  form 
of  a  fire-proof  brick  building  on  Valencia  street,  in 
the  city  of  San  Francisco.  Finally,  it  was  deemed 
necessary  to  add  a  biographical  section  to  the  history 
proper,  in  order  that  the  builders  of  the  common- 


INEXORABLE  FATE.  3 

wealths  on   this   coast   might  have  as  full   and  fair 
treatment  as  the  work  of  their  hands  was  receiving. 

O 

Not  that  the  plan  in  all  its  completeness  arose 
in  my  mind  as  a  whole  in  the  first  instance.  Had 
it  so  presented  itself,  and  with  no  alternative,  I 
never  should  have  had  the  courage  to  undertake  it. 
It  was  because  I  was  led  on  by  my  fate,  following 
blindly  in  paths  where  there  was  no  returning,  that  I 
finally  became  so  lost  in  my  labors  that  my  only  way 
out  was  to  finish  them.  Wherefore,  although  I  am  not 
conscious  of  superstition  in  my  nature,  I  cannot  but 
feel  that  in  this  great  work  I  was  but  the  humble  in 
strument  of  some  power  mightier  than  I,  call  it  provi 
dence,  fate,  environment,  or  what  you  will.  All  the 
originatings  of  essential  ideas  and  acts  connected  with 
the  work  grew  out  of  the  necessities  of  the  case,  and 
were  not  in  the  main  inventions  of  mine,  as  this  volume 
will  show.  That  I  should  leave  my  home  and  friends  at 
the  east  and  come  to  this  coast  an  unsophisticated  boy, 
having  in  hand  and  mind  the  great  purpose  of  secur 
ing  to  a  series  of  commonwealths,  destined  to  be  sec 
ond  in  intelligence  and  importance  to  none  the  sun 
has  ever  sfrone  upon,  more  full  and  complete  early 
historical  data  than  any  government  or  people  on  earth 
enjoy  to-day,  is  not  for  a  moment  to  be  regarded  as 
the  facts  of  the  case.  It  was  the  vital  expression  of 
a  compelling  energy. 

Nor  is  it  out  of  place,  this  referring  of  our 
physical  unfoldings  to  the  undeterminable  for  expla 
nation,  for  it  is  only  since  the  world  has  been  so 
plainly  told  that  it  sees  somewhat  of  the  action  and 
effect  of  environment.  The  individual  entity,  if  it  be 
an  intelligent,  thinking  entity,  does  not  now  imagine 
itself  either  its  own  product  or  the  exclusive  product 
of  any  other  individual  entity.  The  unthinking  thing 
acts  and  is  acted  on  by  universal  regulation,  passively, 
unknowingly.  Even  the  natural  selections  of  progress 
are  made  in  accordance  therewith,  and  seldom  artifi 
cially  or  arbitrarily.  Underlying  all  phenomena  is 
the  absolute,  the  elemental  source  of  vital  knowledge; 


4  THE  FIELD. 

and  thus  all  the  grand  issues  of  life  are  referred  back 
to  a  matter  of  carbon  and  ammonia. 

And  now,  while  presenting  here  a  history  of  my 
history,  an  explanation  of  my  life,  its  efforts  and  ac 
complishments,  it  is  necessary  first  of  all  that  there 
should  be  established  in  the  mind  of  the  reader  a  good 
and  sufficient  reason  for  the  same.  For  in  the  absence 
of  such  a  reason,  to  whose  existence  the  simple  appear 
ing  of  the  book  is  ex  hypothesi  a  declaration,  then  is  the 
author  guilty  of  placing  himself  before  the  world  in 
the  unenviable  light  of  one  who  appears  to  think 
more  highly  of  himself  and  his  labors  than  the  world 

O         t/ 

thinks,  or  than  the  expressions  and  opinions  of  the 
world  would  justify  him  in  thinking. 

In  any  of  the  departments  of  human  activity,  he 
alone  can  reasonably  ask  to  be  heard  who  has  some 
new  application  of  ideas ;  something  to  say  which  has 
never  been  said  before;  or,  if  said  before,  then  some 
thing  which  can  be  better  said  this  second  or  twentieth 
time.  Within  the  last  clause  of  this  proposition 
my  efforts  do  not  come.  All  ancient  facts  are  well 
recorded;  all  old  ideas  are  already  clothed  in  more 
beautiful  forms  than  are  at  my  command.  It  there 
fore  remains  to  be  shown  that  my  historical  labors, 
of  which  this  volume  is  an  exposition,  come  prop 
erly  within  the  first  of  the  categories.  And  this  I 
am  confident  will  appear,  namely,  that  I  do  not  only 
deal  in  new  facts,  but  in  little  else;  in  facts  brought 
out  in  this  latter-day  dispensation  as  a  revelation  of 
development  as  marvellous  in  its  origin  and  as  magi 
cal  in  its  results  as  any  appearing  upon  the  breaking 
up  of  the  great  dark  age  preceding  the  world's  un 
covering  and  enlightenment.  Every  glance  westward 
was  met  by  a  new  ray  of  intelligence;  every  drawn 
breath  of  western  air  brought  inspiration ;  every  step 
taken  was  over  an  untried  field;  every  experiment, 
every  thought,  every  aspiration  and  act  were  origi 
nal  and  individual;  and  the  faithful  recorder  of  the 
events  attendant  thereunto,  who  must  be  at  once 


CLAIMS  TO  EXISTENCE.  5 

poet  and  prophet  of  the  new  dispensation,  had  no 
need  of  legendary  lore,  of  grandfather's  tales,  or  of 
paths  previously  trodden. 

And  not  only  should  be  here  established  a  proper 
reason  for  the  appearance  of  this  volume,  as  the  re 
sults  of  a  life  of  earnest  endeavor,  but  all  its  predeces 
sors  should  be  reestablished  in  the  good  opinions  of 
the  learned  arid  intelligent  world,  of  all  who  have  so 
fully  and  freely  bestowed  their  praise  in  tinnes  past; 
for  the  two  propositions  must  stand  or  fall  together. 
If  my  historical  efforts  have  been  superfluous  or  un 
necessary;  if  it  were  as  well  they  had  never  been 
undertaken,  or  little  loss  if  blotted  out  of  existence, 
then,  not  only  have  they  no  right  to  exist,  to  cumber 
the  earth  and  occupy  valuable  room  upon  the  shelves 
of  libraries,  but  this  volume  must  be  set  down  as 
the  product  of  mistaken  zeal  commensurate  with  the 
ideas  of  the  author  in  regard  to  the  merit,  original 
ity,  and  value  claimed  for  the  series.  In  a  word,  if 
the  work  is  nothing,  the  explanation  is  worse  than 
nothing;  but  if  the  work  is  worthy  of  its  reputation, 
as  something  individual,  important,  and  incapable  of 
repetition  or  reproduction,  then  is  this  history  and 
description  of  it  not  only  not  inopportune  or  superflu 
ous,  but  it  is  a  work  which  should  be  done,  a  work 
imperatively  demanded  of  the  author  as  the  right  of 
those  whose  kindness  and  sympathy  have  sustained 
him  in  his  long  and  arduous  undertakings. 

The  proposition  stands  thus :  As  the  author's  life 
has  been  mainly  devoted  to  this  labor,  and  not  his 
alone  but  that  of  many  others,  and  as  the  work  has 
been  extensive  and  altogether  different  from  any  which 
has  hitherto  been  accomplished  in  any  other  part  of 
the  globe,  it  was  thought  that  it  might  prove  of  inter 
est  if  he  should  present  a  report,  setting  forth  what  he 
has  accomplished  and  how  he  accomplished  it.  Com 
ing  to  this  coast  a  boy,  he  has  seen  it  transformed 
from  a  wilderness  into  a  garden  of  latter-day  civiliza 
tion,  vast  areas  between  the  mountains  and  the  sea 


6  .        THE  FIELD. 

which  were  at  first  pronounced  valueless  unfolding 
into  homes  of  refinement  and  progress.  It  would 
therefore  seem,  that  as  upon  the  territory  covered  by 
his  work  there  is  now  being  planted  a  civilization  des 
tined  in  time  to  be  superior  to  any  now  existing ;  and 
as  to  coming  millions,  if  not  to  those  now  here,  every 
thing  connected  with  the  efforts  of  the  builders  of  the 
commonwealths  on  these  shores  will  be  of  vital  inter 
est — it  seems  not  out  of  place  to  devote  the  last  vol 
ume  of  his  historical  series,  proper,  to  an  account  of 
his  labors  in  this  field. 

It  was  rather  a  slow  process,  as  affairs  are  at  pres 
ent  progressing,  that  of  belting  the  earth  by  Asiatic 
and  European  civilization.  Three  thousand  years,  or 
we  might  say  four  thousand,  were  occupied  in  making 
the  circuit  now  effected  daily  by  the  conscious  light 
ning  ;  three  or  four  thousand  years  in  finding  a  path 
way  now  the  thoroughfare  of  the  nations.  Half  the 
distance — that  is,  from  the  hypothetical  cradle  of  this 
civilization  eastward  to  the  Pacific  and  westward  to 
the  Atlantic — was  achieved  at  a  comparatively  early 
period.  The  other  half  dragged  its  slow  course  along, 
a  light  age  and  a  dark  age  intervening,  the  work  be 
ginning  in  earnest  only  after  the  inventions  of  gun 
powder,  printing,  and  the  mariner's  compass,  the  last 
permitting  presumptuous  man  to  traverse  the  several 
seas  of  darkness.  Even  after  Mediterranean  navi 
gators  had  passed  the  Pillars  of  Hercules,  and  ven 
tured  beyond  the  sight  of  land,  several  hundred  years 
elapsed  before  the  other  earth's  end  was  permanently 
attained  by  way  of  the  east  arid  the  west  on  the  Pa 
cific  shores  of  America. 

As  the  earth  was  thus  disclosing  its  form  and  its 
secrets,  men  began  to  talk  and  write  about  it,  saying 
much  that  was  true  and  much  that  was  false.  First 
among  the  records  are  the  holy  books  of  Asia;  holy, 
because  their  authors  dwelt  little  on  the  things  of 
this  world  concerning  which  they  knew  little,  while 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE     ATMOSPHERE. 

The  true,  great  want  is  of  an  atmosphere  of  sympathy  in  intellectual  aims. 
An  artist  can  afford  to  be  poor,  but  not  to  be  companionless.  It  is  not  well 
that  he  should  feel  pressing  on  him,  in  addition  to  his  own  doubt  whether  he 
can  achieve  a  certain  work,  the  weight  of  the  public  doubt  whether  it  be 
worth  achieving.  No  man  can  live  entirely  on  his  own  ideal. 

Higginson. 

OFTEN  during  the  progress  of  my  literary  labors 
questions  have  arisen  as  to  the  influence  of  California 
climate  and  society  on  the  present  and  future  develop 
ment  of  letters.  Charles  Nordhoff  said  to  me  one 
day  at  his  villa  on  the  Hudson,  "The  strangest  part 
of  it  is  how  you  ever  came  to  embark  in  such  a  labor. 
The  atmosphere  of  California  is  so  foreign  to  literary 
pursuits,  the  minds  of  the  people  so  much  more  intent 
on  gold-getting  and  society  pleasures  than  on  intel 
lectual  culture  and  the  investigation  of  historical  or 
abstract  subjects,  that  your  isolation  must  have  been 
severe.  I  could  not  help  feeling  this  keenly  myself," 
continued  my  entertainer,  "  while  on  your  coast. 
With  a  host  of  friends  ready  to  do  everything  in 
their  power  to  serve  me,  I  was  in  reality  without 
companionship,  without  that  broad  and  generous  sym 
pathy  which  characterizes  men  of  letters  everywhere ; 
so  that  it  amazes  me  to  find  a  product  like  yours  ger 
minating  and  developing  in  such  a  soil  and  such  a 
climate." 

While  it  was  true,  I  replied,  that  no  great  attempts 
were  made  in  the  field  of  letters  in  California,  and 
while  comparatively  few  of  the  people  were  specially 
interested  in  literature  or  literary  men,  yet  I  had 
never  experienced  the  feeling  of  which  he  spoke. 


TOWN  AXD  COUNTRY.  19 

charm  of  the  Homeric  poems,  yet  this  alone  can  pro 
duce  no  Homer."  While  literature  is  an  increment 
of  social  intelligence  and  the  resultant  of  social  prog 
ress,  it  is  certainly  influenced  through  the  mind  of  man 
by  climate  and  scenery,  by  accident  and  locality,  which 
act  both  positively  and  negatively,  partly  in  harmony, 
partly  in  antagonism.  Some  atmospheres  seem  to 
absorb  the  subtile  substance  of  the  brain ;  others  feed 
the  mental  powers  and  stimulate  them  to  their  utmost 
capabilities. 

The  idyllic  picture  of  his  life  at  Scillus,  as  pre 
sented  by  Xenophon,  not  wholly  in  the  bustling  world 
nor  yet  beyond  it,  is  most  charming.  Sophocles  re 
tired  from  busy  Athens  to  lovely  Col  onus.  Horace 
in  gay  luxurious  Rome  renounced  wealth  and  social 
distinction,  preferring  few  friendships  and  those  of 
the  purest  and  best — Maecenas,  Virgil,  Varius — pre 
ferring  pleasures  more  refined,  and  which  might  be 
bought  only  by  temperance  in  all  things,  and  content 
ment,  that  content  which  abhors  the  lust  of  gain  and 
the  gnawing  disquietudes  of  social  envy. 

Maecenas  loved  the  noisy  streets  of  Rome,  but 
Horace  doted  on  his  little  Sabine  farm,  the  gift  of 
his  devoted  friend.  It  was  there  in  free  and  undis 
turbed  thought  he  found  that  leisure  so  necessary 
to  his  soul's  health.  Yet  sometimes  he  felt  the  need 
of  the  capital's  bustle  and  the  stimulus  of  society, 
and  then  again  he  longed  for  the  stillness  of  the 
country,  so  that  his  ambling  mule  was  kept  in  exer 
cise  carrying  him  forth  and  back.  The  gentle  satirist 
puts  words  of  ridicule  into  the  mouth  of  his  servant 
Davus,  ridicule  of  the  author  himself,  and  his  rhap 
sodies  of  town  and  country. 

"At  Rome  you  for  the  country  sigh; 
When  in  the  country,  to  the  8ky 
You,  flighty  as  the  thistle's  down, 
Are  always  crying  up  the  town." 

Dugald  Stewart  clung  to  his  quiet  home;    Scott 


20  THE  ATMOSPHERE. 

found  repose  among  his  antiquated  folios;  but  Jeffreys 
disdained  literary  retirement,  and  sought  comfort  in 
much  company.  Pope  loved  his  lawn  at  Twickenham, 
and  Wordsworth  the  solitude  of  Grasmere.  Heine, 
cramped  in  his  narrow  Paris  quarters,  sighed  for  trees. 
Dr  Arnold  hated  Rugby,  but,  said  he,  "it  is  very 
inspiring  to  write  with  such  a  view  before  one's  eyes 
as  that  from  our  drawing-room  at  Allen  Bank,  where 
the  trees  of  the  shrubbery  gradually  run  up  into  the 
trees  of  the  cliff,  and  the  mountain-side,  with  its  infi 
nite  variety  of  rocky  peaks  and  points,  upon  which 
the  cattle  expatiate,  rises  over  the  tops  of  the  trees." 
Galileo  and  Cowper  thought  the  country  especially 
conducive  to  intellectual  culture;  Mr  Buckle  preferred 
the  city,  while  Tycho  Brahe,  and  the  brothers  Hum- 
boldt,  with  shrewder  wisdom,  established  themselves 
in  suburban  quarters  near  a  city,  where  they  might 
command  the  advantages  and  escape  the  inconven 
iences  of  both. 

Exquisite,  odd,  timidly  bold,  and  sweetly  misan 
thropic  Charles  Lamb  could  not  endure  the  glare  of 
nature,  and  so  must  needs  hide  himself  between  the 
brick  walls  of  busy  London,  where  he  lived  alone 
with  his  sister,  shrinking  alike  from  enemy  and 
friend.  "  To  him,"  says  a  biographer,  "  the  tide  of 
human  life  that  flowed  through  Fleet  street  and  Lud- 
gate  Hill  was  worth  all  the  Wyes  and  Yarrows  in 
the  universe;  there  were  to  his  thinking  no  green 
lanes  to  compare  with  Fetter  Lane  or  St  Bride's;  no 
garden  like  Covent  Garden;  and  the  singing  of  all 
the  feathered  tribes  of  the  air  grated  harsh  discord  in 
his  ear,  attuned  as  it  was  only  to  the  drone  or  the 
squall  of  the  London  ballad-singer,  the  grinding  of 
the  hand-organ,  and  the  nondescript  London  cries,  set 
to  their  cart-wheel  accompaniment."  And  Dr  John 
son,  too,  loved  dingy,  dirty  Fleet  street  and  smoky 
Pall  Mall  above  any  freshness  or  beauty  nature  could 
afford  in  the  country.  "  Sir,"  he  says,  after  his  usual 
sententious  fashion,  "  when  you  have  seen  one  green 


30  THE  ATMOSPHERE. 

overreached.  These  many  and  mammoth  fortunes 
made  by  stock-gambling  and  railway  manipulations  so 
overshadow  and  belittle  legitimate  efforts  that  accu 
mulators  are  constrained  to  pause  and  consider  what 
is  the  right  and  destiny  of  all  this,  and  to  begin  com 
parisons  between  material  wealth  beyond  a  competency 
and  that  wealth  of  mind  which  alone  elevates  and 
ennobles  man. 

Midas  of  the  ass's  ears  is  dead,  choked  on  gold 
given  him  by  offended  deities ;  but  Midas  of  the  ser 
pent,  Midas  of  the  slimy  way,  still  lives,  and  is  among 
us,  sapping  our  industries,  monopolizing  our  products, 
glutting  himself  with  the  hard-earned  gold  of  our  work 
ing  men  and  women.  Let  him  take  warning ;  let  him 
go  bathe  in  Pactolus  and  cleanse  himself  withal. 

The  time  will  surely  come  in  California  when  some 
will  surfeit  of  wealth  and  hold  the  money  struggle 
in  contempt.  They  will  tire  of  the  harpies  of  avarice 
who  snatch  from  them  the  mind-food  for  which  they 
pine,  even  as  the  fabled  harpies  snatched  from  the 
luxury-loving  monarch  Prester  John  the  food  for 
which  his  body  hungered.  This  western  spurt  of 
enterprise  is  a  century- step  backward  in  certain  kinds 
of  culture. 

San  Francisco  has  absorbed  well-nigh  all  that  is  left 
of  the  Inferno.  Take  the  country  at  large,  and  since 
the  youthful  fire  that  first  flashed  in  our  cities  and 
canons  California  in  some  respects  has  degenerated. 
Avarice  is  a  good  flint  on  which  to  strike  the  metal 
of  our  minds,  but  it  yields  no  steady  flame.  The  hope 
of  sudden  gain  excites  the  passions,  whets  the  brain, 
and  rouses  the  energies;  but  when  the  effort  is  over, 
whether,  successful  or  otherwise,  the  mind  sinks  into 
comparative  listlessness.  It  must  have  some  healthier 
pabulum  than  cupidity,  or  it  starves.  The  quality  of 
our  Californian  mind  to-day  may  be  seen  displayed  in 
our  churches  and  in  the  newspaper  press.  The  most 
intellectual  and  refined  of  our  pulpit  orators  are  not 
always  the  most  popular.  Clerical  jolly-good-fellow- 


CHAPTER  III. 

SPRINGS  AND  LITTLE  BROOKS. 

On  fait  presque  tou jours  les  grandes  choses  sans  savoir  comment  on  les 
fait,  et  on  est  tout  surpris  qu'on  les  a  faites.  Demandez  a  Cesar  comment  il 
se  rendit  le  maitre  du  monde ;  peut-£tre  ne  vous  repondra-t-il  pas  aise"ment. 

Fontenelle. 

SERMONIZE  as  we  may  on  fields  and  atmospheres, 
internal  agencies  and  environment,  at  the  end  of  life 
we  know  little  more  of  the  influences  that  moulded 
us  than  at  the  beginning.  Without  rudder  or  com 
pass  our  bark  is  sent  forth  on  the  stormy  sea,  and 
although  we  fancy  we  know  our  present  haven,  the 
trackless  path  by  which  we  came  hither  we  cannot 
retrace.  The  record  of  a  life  written— what  is  it? 
Between  the  lines  are  characters  invisible  which 
might  tell  us  something  could  we  translate  them. 
They  might  tell  us  something  of  those  ancient  riddles, 
origin  and  destiny,  free-will  and  necessity,  discussed 
under  various  names  by  learned  men  through  the 
centuries,  and  all  without  having  penetrated  one 
hair's  breadth  into  the  mystery,  all  without  having 
gained  any  knowledge  of  the  subject  not  possessed  by 
men  primeval.  In  this  mighty  and  universal  straining 
to  fathom  the  unknowable,  Plato,  the  philosophic 
Greek,  seems  to  succeed  no  better  than  Moncacht 
Ape,  the  philosophic  savage. 

This  much  progress,  however,  has  been  made; 
there  are  men  now  living  who  admit  that  they  know 
nothing  about  such  matters;  that  after  a  lifetime  of 
study  and  meditation  the  eyes  of  the  brightest  intel 
lect  can  see  beyond  the  sky  no  farther  than  those  of 

[42] 


ORIGIN  AND  DESTINY.  43 

the  most  unlearned  dolt.  And  they  are  the  strongest 
who  acknowledge  their  weakness  in  this  regard;  they 
are  the  wisest  who  confess  their  ignorance.  Even  the 

o 

ancients  understood  this,  though  by  the  mouth  of 
Terentius  they  put  the  proposition  a  little  differently : 
"  Faciunt  nse  intelligendo,  ut  nihil  intelligant ;"  by  too 
much  knowledge  men  bring  it  about  that  they  know 
nothing.  Confining  our  investigations  to  the  walks 
of  literature,  surely  one  would  think  genius  might  tell 
something  of  itself,  something  of  its  inceptions  and 
inspirations.  But  what  says  genius?  "  They  ask  me," 
complains  Goethe  of  the  perplexed  critics  who  sought 
in  vain  the  moral  design  of  his  play,  "what  idea  I 
wished  to  incorporate  with  my  Faust.  Can  I  know 
it?  Or,  if  I  know,  can  I  put  it  into  words?"  A  similar 
retort  was  made  by  Sheridan  Knowles  to  a  question 
by  Douglas  Jerrold,  who  asked  the  explanation  of  a 
certain  unintelligible  incident  in  the  plot  of  The 
Hunchback.  "  My  dear  boy,"  said  Knowles,  "  upon  my 
word  I  can't  tell  you.  Plots  write  themselves." 

Why  we  are  what  we  are,  and  not  some  other 
person  or  thing;  why  we  do  as  we  do,  turning  hither 
instead  of  thither,  are  problems  which  will  be  solved 
only  with  the  great  and  universal  exposition.  And 
yet  there  is  little  that  seems  strange  to  us  in  our 
movements.  Things  appear  wonderful  as  they  are 
unfamiliar;  in  the  unknown  and  unfathomed  we  think 
we  see  God;  but  is  anything  known  or  fathomed? 
Who  shall  measure  mind,  we  say,  or  paint  the  soul,  or 
rend  the  veil  that  separates  eternity  and  time?  Yet 
do  we  but  think  of  it,  everything  relating  to  mankind 
and  the  universe  is  strange,  the  spring  that  moves  the 
mind  of  man  not  more  than  the  mechanism  on  which 
it  presses.  "  How  wonderful  is  death!"  says  Shelley; 
but  surely  not  more  wonderful  than  life  or  intellect 
which  brings  us  consciousness.  We  see  the  youth's 
bleached  body  carried  to  the  grave,  and  wonder  at 
the  absence  of  that  life  so  lately  animating  it,  and 
question  what  it  is,  whence  it  came,  and  whither  it 


CAUSATIONS.  45 

where  he  happens  to  be,  and  his  teachers  are  the 
people,  books,  animals,  plants,  stones,  and  earth  round 
about  him." 

There  are  millions  of  causes,  then,  why  we  are  what 
we  are,  and  when  we  can  enumerate  but  a  few  score 
of  them  we  rightly  say  we  do  not  know.  In  my  own 
case,  that  I  was  born  in  central  Ohio  rather,  than  in 
Oahu  is  one  cause;  that  my  ancestors  were  of  that 
stern  puritan  stock  that  delighted  in  self-denial  and 
effective  well-doing,  sparing  none,  and  least  of  all 
themselves,  in  their  rigid  proselyting  zeal,  is  another 
cause;  the  hills  and  vales  around  my  home,  the  woods 
and  meadows  through  which  I  roamed,  my  daily 
tasks — no  pretence  alone  of  work — that  were  the  be 
ginning  of  a  life-long  practice  of  mental  and  muscular 
gymnastics,  were  causes;  every  opening  of  the  eye, 
every  wave  of  nature's  inspiration,  was  a  cause.  And 
thus  it  ever  is.  Every  ray  of  sunshine  thrown  upon 
our  path,  every  shower  that  waters  our  efforts,  every 
storm  that  toughens  our  sinews,  swells  the  influence 
that  makes  us  what  we  are.  The  lights  and  shades  of 
a  single  day  color  one's  whole  existence.  There  is  no 
drop  of  dew,  no  breath  of  air,  no  shore,  no  sea,  no 
heavenly  star,  but  writes  its  influence  on  our  destiny. 
In  the  morning  of  life  the  infant  sleeps  into  strength, 
and  while  he  sleeps  are  planted  the  seeds  of  his  fate; 
for  weal  or  woe  are  planted  the  fig-tree  and  the  thorn- 
tree,  fair  flowers  and  noisome  weeds.  Then  are  born 
cravings  for  qualities  and  forms  of  existence,  high 
aspirations  and  debasing  appetites;  the  poetic,  the 
sacred,  the  sublime,  and  love,  and  longings,  are  there 
in  their  incipiency;  hate,  and  all  the  influences  for 
evil  mingling  with  the  rest.  Wrapped  in  the  mys 
terious  enfoldings  "of  fate  are  these  innumerable 
springs  of  thought  and  action,  for  the  most  part  dor 
mant  till  wakened  by  the  sunshine  and  storm  wherein 
they  bask  and  battle  to  the  end. 

And  later  in  the  life  of  the  man,  of  the  nation,  or 


46  SPRINGS  AND  LITTLE  BROOKS. 

the  evolution  of  a  principle,  how  frequently  insignifi 
cant  is  the  only  appearing  cause  of  mighty  change. 
Mohammed,  a  tradesman's  clerk,  was  constrained  to 
marry  h'is  mistress  and  turn  prophet,  and  therefrom 
arose  a  power  which  wellnigh  overwhelmed  Christen 
dom.  Luther's  sleep,  was  troubled  with  impish  dreams, 
and  his  waking  hours  with  the  presence  of  papal  in 
dulgences,  from  which  results  of  indigestion,  brain  op 
pression,  or  extrinsic  pressure  of  progress,  the  church 
was  shorn  of  a  good  share  of  its  authority.  Frog 
soup  was  one  day  in  1790  prescribed  as  a  suitable  diet 
for  a  lady  of  Bologna,  Signora  Galvani;  and  but  for 
this  homely  incident  the  existence  of  what  we  call 
galvanism  might  not  have  been  discovered  to  this  day. 
Joseph  Smith's  revelation  put  into  his  hands  the 
metal-plated  book  of  Mormon,  though  unfortunately 
for  his  followers  it  was  some  three  centuries  late  in 
appearing. 

Lucian's  first  occupation  was  making  gods,  a  busi 
ness  quite  extensively  indulged  in  by  all  men  of  all 
ages — making  deities  and  demolishing  them;  carving 
them  in  wood,  or  out  of  airy  nothings,  and  then  set 
ting  them  a-fighting.  Lucian  used  to  cut  Mercuries 
out  of  marble  in  his  uncle's  workshop.  Thence  he 
descended  to  humbler  undertakings,  learned  to  write, 
and  finally  handled  the  gods  somewhat  roughly.  Thus 
with  him  the  one  occupation  followed  closely  on  the 
other.  Thomas  Hood's  father  was  a  bookseller,  and 
his  uncle  an  engraver.  Disgusted  first  with  a  mer 
cantile  and  afterward  with  a  mechanical  occupation, 
Hood  took  to  verse-making,  and  finally  abandoned 
himself  wholly  to  literature.  And  there  is  at  least 
one  instance  where  a  young  scribbler,  Planche,  re 
solved  to  be  a  bookseller  so  that  he  might  have  the 
opportunity  of  publishing  his  own  works;  in  accord 
ance  with  which  determination  he  apprenticed  him 
self,  though  shortly  afterward,  not  finding  in  the 
connection  the  benefits  imagined,  he  took  to  play 
acting  and  writing.  An  author  of  genius  sometimes 


OLD  GRANVILLE.  49 

grandfather  dig  and  store  his  potatoes,  and  gather 
and  sell  his  apples,  the  fine  seek-no-farthers  readily 
bringing  a  cent  apiece  by  the  dozen.  His  grand 
mother  met  her  death  from  an  accident  at  ninety-five. 
A  mile  and  a  half  from  this  Pratt  farm  lived  my 
grandfather  Bancroft,  a  man  of  good  judgment,  active 
in  light  open-air  work,  though  not  of  sound  health, 
for  he  was  afflicted  with  asthma.  My  grandmother 
was  a  woman  of  great  endurance,  tall  and  slender, 
with  a  facility  for  accomplishing  work  which  was  a 
marvel  to  her  neighbors.  "  She  did  not  possess  great 
physical  force,"  says  my  father  in  his  journal,  "but 
managed  to  accomplish  no  inconsiderable  work  in 
rearing  a  large  family,  and  providing  both  for  their 
temporal  and  spiritual  wants — clothing  them  accord 
ing  to  the  custom  of  the  time  with  the  wool  and  flax 
of  her  own  spinning.  The  raw  material  entered  the 
house  from  the  farm,  and  never  left  it  except  as 
warm  durable  garments  upon  the  backs  of  its  inmates. 
The  fabric  was  quite  good,  as  good  at  least  as  that  of 
our  neighbors,  though  I  ought  to  admit  that  it  would 
not  compare  with  the  Mission  woollen  goods  of  San 
Francisco;  still,  I  think  a  peep  into  my  mother's 
factory  as  it  was  in  the  year  1800  would  be  found 
interesting  to  her  descendants  of  the  present  day. 
This  was  before  the  day  of  our  country  carding  ma 
chines.  My  mother  had  nine  operatives  at  this  time, 
of  different  ages,  and  not  a.  drone  among  us  all.  All 
were  busy  with  the  little  picking  machines,  the  hand- 
cards,  the  spinning-wheel,  and  the  loom.  It  can  be 
well  imagined  that  my  mother  was  much  occupied 
in  her  daily  duties,  yet  she  found  time  to  teach 
her  little  ones  the  way  to  heaven,  and  to  pray  with 
them  that  they  might  enter  therein.  And  such 
teaching!  such  prayers!  What  of  the  result?  We 
verily  believe  those  children  all  gave  their  hearts  to 
the  Savior,  either  early  in  childhood  or  in  youth. 
She  had  eleven  children;  two  died  in  infancy.  The 
remaining  nine  all  reared  families,  and  a  large  propor- 


LIT.  IND. 


50  SPRINGS  AND  LITTLE  BROOKS. 

tion  of  them  are  pious.  May  a  gracious  God  have 
mercy  upon  the  rising  generation,  and  in  answer  to 
the  prayers  of  a  long  line  of  pious  ancestry  save  their 
children.  My  mother  died  in  Granville,  Ohio,  Jan 
uary  29,  1842,  in  her  seventy-first  year." 

It  seemed  to  me  that  boys  in  Ohio  were  early  put 
to  work,  but  they  used  to  begin  earlier  in  Massachu 
setts.  A  boy,  or  rather  baby  of  five,  could  ride  horse 
to  plow,  a  line  for  guiding  the  animal  being  then  used 
less  than  at  present.  He  could  gather  surface  stones 
into  little  heaps,  drop  corn,  and  pull  flax.  During 
the  next  year  or  two,  in  his  linen  frock,  he  performed 
all  kinds  of  general  light  work;  among  the  rest  he 
would  walk  beside  the  ox  team  while  plowing.  The 
farm  on  which  my  father  worked  at  this  tender  age 
was  quite  rough  and  stony,  and  before  the  plowing 
oxen  was  sometimes  hitched  a  gentle  horse  without 
a  bridle,  guided,  like  the  oxen,  with  the  whip.  My 
father  had  not  yet  reached  the  end  of  his  sixth 
year  when,  toward  the  close  of  a  long  hot  summer 
day,  during  which  he  had  trudged  manfully,  whip  in 
hand,  beside  these  cattle,  he  became  exceedingly  tired, 
and  the  silent  tears  began  to  fall.  Noticing  this 
the  father  asked,  "What  is  the  matter,  my  child ?" 
"Nothing,  sir,"  was  the  reply,  "only  I  think  this  is  a 
pretty  big  team  for  so  small  a  boy  to  drive  all  day." 
"I  think  so  too,  my  son,  and  we  will  stop  now,"  said 
my  grandfather.  After  his  seventh  birthday  my 
father  was  withdrawn  from  school  during  summer, 
his  services  on  the  farm  being  too  valuable  to  be 
spared.  In  1809  my  grandfather  Bancroft  removed 
his  family  to  Pennsylvania,  where  Yankees  were  then 
eyed  suspiciously  by  the  Dutch,  and  in  1814  he  emi 
grated  to  Ohio. 

My  mother  was  a  native  of  Vermont.  Sibyl 
Phelps  was  her  mother's  maiden  name,  and  the 
Phelps  family  at  an  early  day  removed  from  the 
vicinity  of  St  Albans  to  Ohio.  My  mother's  parents 
were  both  originally  from  Massachusetts,  Sibyl 


MY  GRANDFATHER.  51 

Phelps  leaving  Springfield  about  the  time  Curtis 
Howe,  my  mother's  father,  left  Granville,  the  two 
meeting  first  at  S wanton,  Vermont,  in  1797,  their 
marriage  taking  place  the  following  year.  Curtis 
Howe  was  one  in  whom  were  united  singular  mild 
ness  of  disposition  and  singular  firmness  of  character, 
and  withal  as  lovable  a  nature  as  ever  man  had.  He 
lived  to  the  age  of  ninety-eight,  a  venerable  patriarch, 
proud  of  his  numerous  descendants,  who  with  one 
accord  regarded  him  as  the  best  man  that  ever  lived. 
Like  a  shepherd  amidst  his  flock,  with  his  white  hair, 
and  mild  beaming  eye,  and  quiet  loving  smile;  with 
sweet  counsel  ever  falling  from  his  lips,  Sabbath  days 
and  other  days,  his  simple  presence  blessed  them.  In 
the  consciousness  of  duty  well  performed,  with  a  firm 
reliance  on  his  God,  a  faith  deep-rooted  in  his  bible, 
which  though  the  mountains  were  upturned  could  not 
be  shaken,  a  trust  that  the  sweet  Christ  on  whom  he 
leaned  would  guide  his  steps  and  smooth  his  path  daily 
and  hourly  so  long  as  life  should  last,  and  give  him 
final  rest,  the  good  man  brought  dowa  heaven  and 
made  the  world  to  him  a  paradise.  And  when  earthly 
trials  thickened,  he  lifted  his  soul  and  soared  amidst 
the  stars,  and  made  the  saints  and  angels  his  com 
panions. 

Ah!  talk  not  to  me  of  living  then  and  now.  We 
plume  ourselves,  poor  fools,  and  say  that  more  of  life 
is  given  us  in  the  short  space  we  run  it  through  than 
was  vouchsafed  our  ancestors  a  century  or  two  ago  in 
thrice  the  time.  Puffed  up  by  our  mechanical  con 
trivances  which  we  call  science,  our  parcelling-out  of 
earth  and  ores  which  we  call  wealth,  our  libertinism 
which  we  call  liberty;  casting  ourselves  adrift  from 
our  faith,  calling  in  question  the  wisdom  and  goodness 
of  our  maker,  throwing  off  all  law  but  the  law  of  lust, 
all  affection  save  avarice  and  epicurism,  we  plunge 
headlong  into  some  pandemonium  or  cast  ourselves 
under  some  soul-crushing  juggernaut  of  progress,  and 


52  SPRINGS  AND  LITTLE  BROOKS. 

call  it  life,  and  boast  one  year  of  such  hurry-skurry 
existence  to  be  worth  ten,  ay,  a  hundred,  of  the  old- 
time  sort. 

Lacrymse  Christi!  What,  then,  is  life?  To  swine, 
a  wallowing  in  the  mire;  to  the  money -getter,  a 
wrangling  on  the  mart;  to  the  brainless  belle,  a  beau, 
dancing,  and  dissipation;  to  the  modern  young  man, 
billiards,  cigars,  and  champagne  cocktails — and  if  he 
stops  at  these  he  does  well.  To  the  woman  of  fashion 
life  is  a  war  on  wrinkles;  to  the  epicure,  it  is  frogs 
and  turtles;  to  the  roue,  women  and  fast  horses;  to 
the  politician,  chicanery,  cheatings,  and  o verreachings ; 
to  the  man  of  science,  evolution,  universal  law,  and  a 
dark  uncertain  future.  Away  with  aged  father  and 
tottering  mother!  hence  with  them,  coffin  them,  wall 
them  in,  send  their  souls  quick  to  heaven  and  let  their 
names  be  canonized,  so  that  they  depart  and  give  their 
ambitious  children  room.  So  swiftly  do  the  actions  of 
modern  fast  livers  follow  their  swift  thoughts  that  the 
recording  angel  must  be  indeed  a  good  stenographer  to 
take  down  all  their  doings.  "  Think  of  the  crowning 
hours  of  men's  lives,"  exclaims  Thomas  Starr  King,  "  if 
you  would  learn  how  much  living  can  be  crowded  into 
a  minute;  of  Copernicus,  when  he  first  saw  the  sun 
stop  in  its  career,  and  the  earth,  like  a  moth,  begin  to 
flutter  round  it;  of  Newton,  when  the  law  of  gravity 
was  first  breaking  into  the  inclosure  of  his  philosophy, 
and  at  the  same  glance  he  saw  his  own  name  written 
forever  on  the  starry  sky;  of  Le  Verrier,  when  from 
Berlin  word  came  back  that  a  new  planet  had  been 
evoked  by  the  sorcery  of  his  mathematics,  to  spin  a 
wider  thread  of  reflected  light  than  had  ever  before 
been  traced;  of  Washington,  when  the  English  gen 
eral's  sword  was  surrendered  to  him  at  Yorktown ;  of 
Columbus,  when  on  his  deck  e  before  the  upright  man 
there  arose  a  light,'  when  San  Salvador  lifted  its 
candle  to  his  sight  and  shot  its  rays  across  on  Castile ; 
-and  for  the  jeers  of  a  continent,  the  mutiny  of  his 
men,  he  was  repaid  as  he  saw  that  the  round  idea  that 


THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  LIVING.  53 

haunted  him  was  demonstrated.  To  pictures  like 
these  we  must  turn  to  understand  the  untranslatable 
bliss  of  which  a  moment  is  capable,  to  learn  what 
fast  living  really  is." 

To  few,  however,  is  given  the  happiness  of  thus 
hanging  the  results  of  a  noble  life  on  a  point  of  time, 
but  to  all  is  given  the  privilege  of  making  somewhat 
of  life.  Our  life  is  but  one  among  millions  of  lives, 
our  world  one  among  millions  of  worlds,  our  solar 
system  one  among  millions  of  solar  systems.  "  La 
plupart  des  hommes/'  says  La  Bruyere,  "  emploient 
la  premiere  partie  de  leur  vie  a  rendre  1'autre  miser 
able."  Nevertheless  it  is  safe  to  say  that  every  man 
receives  from  the  world  more  than  he  gives.  These 
so-called  fast  livers  do  not  live  at  all,  do  not  know 
what  life  is.  They  act  as  though  they  imagined  it  to 
be  a  gladiatorial  show,  in  which  each  was  called  to 
be  an  actor,  a  thief,  and  fierce  butcher  of  time,  when 
in  reality  they  are  but  spectators,  the  creator  pro 
viding  the  entertainment,  which  is  not  a  gladiatorial 
show,  but  a  pastoral  feast,  where  nature  herself  pre 
sides  and  distributes  the  gifts.  Let  it  be  inscribed 
on  the  tombstone  of  him  whose  fastness  of  life  lies 
in  money,  wine,  and  women: — Here  lies  one  to  whom 
God  had  given  intellect  and  opportunity,  who  lived — 
nay  rotted — in  an  age  which  yielded  to  inquiry  the 
grandest  returns,  doubly  rewarding  the  efforts  of 
mind  by  blessing  him  who  gave  and  him  who  re 
ceived;  but  who  in  all  his  threescore  years  lived  not 
an  hour,  being  absorbed  all  that  time  in  hurried 
preparations  to  live,  and  who  died  laboring  under  the 
strange  delusion  that  he  had  lived  half  a  century  or 
more.  There  is  about  all  this  bustle  and  business  the 
stifling  vapor  of  merchandise,  town  lots,  and  stocks, 
which,  as  one  says  truthfully,  "deoxygenates  the  air 
of  its  fair  humanities  and  ethereal  spiritualities,  and 
the  more  one  breathes  of  it  the  less  one  lives."  What 
recompense  to  mummied  man  for  overheated  brain, 
withered  affections,  and  scoffing  distempers?  Can 


56  SPRINGS  AND  LITTLE  BROOKS. 

Both  of  my  parents  were  born  in  the  year  1799. 
I  was  born  in  Granville,  Ohio,  on  the  fifth  day  of 
May,  1832,  just  two  centuries  after  the  arrival  of  my 
ancestor  John  in  America.  The  town  of  Granville 
was  settled  by  a  colony  from  New  England,  and  took 
its  name  from  Granville,  Massachusetts,  whence  many 
of  its  settlers  came.  It  was  in  1805  that  a  company 
was  formed  in  Granville,  Massachusetts,  to  emigrate 
to  the  far  west,  and  two  of  the  number  went  to  search 
the  wilderness  for  a  suitable  location.  They  selected 
a  heavily  timbered  township  in  Ohio,  in  the  county 
of  Licking,  so  called  from  the  deer-licks  found  there. 
They  secured  from  the  proprietors,  Stanbury  and 
Rathburn,  this  tract,  and  it  afterward  took  the  name 
of  Granville,  as  before  mentioned,  from  their  old 
home.  The  year  following  the  colony  was  organized, 
not  as  a  joint-stock  company,  but  as  a  congregational 
church.  At  starting  a  sermon  was  preached  from 
the  text:  "If  thy  presence  go  not  with  me,  carry 
us  not  up  hence."  Then,  after  baking  much  bread, 
a  portion  of  which  was  dried  to  rusk  and  coarsely 
ground  at  the  flouring  mill,  the  cattle  were  hitched 
to  the  wagons,  and  driving  their  cows  before  them 
they  moved  off  in  the  direction  of  the  star  of  empire. 
It  was  quite  a  different  thing,  this  New  England 
colony,  from  an  ordinary  western  settlement.  Though 
eminently  practical,  it  partook  rather  of  the  subjective 
and  rational  element  than  of  the  objective  and  ma 
terial.  Though  unlike  their  forefathers  fleeing  from 
persecution — only  for  more  and  better  land  than  they 
could  find  at  home  would  they  go — they  nevertheless, 
with  their  households,  transplanted  their  opinions  and 
their  traditions,  without  abating  one  jot  or  tittle  of 
either.  With  their  ox  teams  and  horse  teams,  with 
all  their  belongings  in  covered  wagons,  these  colonists 
came,  bearing  in  their  bosoms  their  love  of  God,  their 
courageous  faith,  their  stern  morality,  their  delight  in 
sacrifice;  talking  of  these  things  by  the  way,  camping 
by  the  road  side  at  night,  resting  on  the  Sabbath  when 


THE  LATER  MIGRATION.  57 

all  the  religious  ordinances  of  the  day  were  strictly 
observed,  consuming  in  the  journey  as  many  days  as 
it  now  occupies  half-hours,  and  all  with  thanksgiving, 
prayer,  and  praise. 

Quite  a  contrast,  this  sort  of  swarming,  to  that 
which  characterized  the  exodus  to  California  less 
than  half  a  century  later,  wherein  greed  usurped  the 
place  of  godliness,  and  lust  the  place  of  love.  The  na 
tion  had  progressed,  it  was  said,  since  Ohio  was  the 
frontier — crablike  in  some  respects,  surely;  neverthe 
less  there  was  more  of  'life'  in  it,  that  is  to  say  ebulli 
tion,  fermentation,  called  life,  as  brainless  boys  and  men 
doomed  to  perdition  call  their  fopperies,  harlotings, 
and  drunken  revelries  life.  There  had  been  a  grand 
broadening  since  then;  Yankeedom  now  stretched,  if 
not  from  pole  to  pole,  at  least  from  ocean  to  ocean, 
and  scarcely  had  the  guns  ceased  braying  that  added 
to  our  domain  the  whole  of  Alta  California  when  the 
chink  of  gold  was  heard  upon  our  western  seaboard, 
and  thither  flocked  adventurers  of  every  caste,  good 
and  bad,  learned  and  unlearned,  mercantile,  mechan 
ical,  and  nondescript.  The  sons  of  the  puritans,  in 
common  with  all  the  world,  rose  and  hastily  departed 
on  their  pilgrimage  to  this  new  shrine  of  Plutus. 
Eagerly  they  skirted  the  continent,  doubled  Cape 
Horn,  crossed  the  Isthmus,  or  traversed  the  plains, 
in  order  to  reach  the  other  side.  The  old  covered 
wagon  was  again  brought  out,  the  oxen  and  the 
horses;  wives  and  little  ones  were  left  behind,  and  so, 
alas!  too  often  were  conscience,  and  honesty,  and  hu 
manity.  Not  as  their  forefathers  had  journeyed  did 
these  latter-day  men  of  progress  migrate.  Sacrifice, 
there  was  enough  of  it,  but  of  quite  a  different  kind. 
Comfort,  society  with  its  wholesome  restraints,  and 
Sabbath  were  sacrificed;  the  bible,  the  teachings  of 
their  youth,  and  the  Christ  himself,  were  sacrificed. 
Oaths  and  blasphemy  instead  of  praise  and  thanks 
giving  were  heard;  drunken  revelry  and  gambling  took 


MEETINGS  AND  REFORMATIONS.  63 

lating  of  the  family  book  of  life -almost  in  century- 
pages.  Living  is  not  always  better  than  dying;  but 
to  my  boys  I  would  say,  if  they  desire  to  live  long  in 
this  world  they  must  work  and  be  temperate  in  all 
things. 

Thus  it  happened  that  I  was  born  into  an  atmos 
phere  of  pungent  and  invigorating  puritanism,  such  as 
falls  to  the  lot  of  few  in  these  days  of  material  pro 
gress  and  transcendental  speculation.  This  atmos 
phere,  however,  was  not  without  its  fogs.  Planted  in 
this  western  New  England  oasis,  side  by  side  with  the 
piety  and  principles  of  the  old  Plymouth  colony,  and 
indeed  one  with  them,  were  all  the  ant  is  and  isms 
that  ever  confounded  Satan — Calvinism,  Lutheran- 
ism,  Knoxism,  and  Hussism,  pure  and  adulterated; 
abolitionism,  whilom  accounted  a  disgrace,  later  the 
nation's  proudest  honor;  anti-rum,  anti-tobacco,  anti 
tea  and  coffee,  anti  sugar  and  cotton  if  the  enslaved 
black  man  grew  them,  and  anti  fiddles  and  cushions 
and  carpets  in  the  churches,  anti-sensualism  of  every 
kind,  and  even  comforts  if  they  bordered  on  luxury. 
Thus  the  fanatically  good,  in  their  vehement  attempts 
at  reform,  may  perchance  move  some  atom  of  the  pro- 
gressional  world  which  of  inherent  necessity,  if  left 
alone,  wrould  move  without  their  aid  or  in  spite  of 
them.  Multitudinous  meetings  and  reforms,  high- 
pressure  and  low-pressure,  were  going  on,  whether 
wise  or  unwise,  whether  there  was  anything  to  meet 
for  or  to  reform,  or  not.  As  my  mother  used  to  say, 
"  to  be  good  and  to  do  good  should  constitute  the  aim 
and  end  of  every  life."  Children  particularly  should 
be  reformed,  and  that  right  early;  and  so  Saturday 
night  was  '  kept,'  preparatory  to  the  Sabbath,  on 
which  day  three  ' meetings'  were  always  held,  besides 
a  Sunday-school  and  a  prayer-meeting,  the  intervals 
being  filled  with  Saturday-cooked  repasts,  catechism, 
and  Sunday  readings. 

Preparations  were  made  for  the  Sabbath  as  for  a 


64  SPRINGS  AND  LITTLE  BROOKS. 

solemn  ovation.  The  garden  was  put  in  order,  and 
the  sheep  and  kine  were  driven  to  their  quiet  quarters. 
The  house  was  scrubbed,  and  in  the  winter  fuel  pre 
pared  the  day  before.  All  picture-books  and  scraps 
of  secular  reading  which  might  catch  the  eye  and 
offend  the  imagination  were  thrust  into  a  closet,  and 
on  the  table  in  their  stead  were  placed  the  bible, 
Memoirs  of  Payson,  and  Baxters  Saints  Rest.  The 
morning  of  the  holy  day  crept  silently  in;  even  nature 
seemed  subdued.  The  birds  sang  softer;  the  inmates 
of  the  farm-yard  put  on  their  best  behavior;  only  the 
brazen-faced  sun  dared  show  itself  in  its  accustomed 
character.  Prayers  and  breakfast  over,  cleanly 
frocked,  through  still  streets  and  past  closed  doors 
each  member  of  the  household  walked  with  down 
cast  eyes  to  church.  Listen  and  heed.  Speak  no 
evil  of  the  godly  man,  nor  criticise  his  words. 

Not  only  is  religion,  or  the  necessity  of  worship, 
as  much  a  part  of  us  as  body,  mind,  or  soul,  but 
ingrafted  superstition  of  some  sort  so  fastens  itself  on 
our  nature  that  the  philosophy  of  the  most  skeptical 
cannot  wholly  eradicate  it. 

Often  have  I  heard  latter-day  progressive  fathers 
say:  "For  myself,  I  care  not  for  dogmas  and  creeds, 
but  something  of  the  kind  is  necessary  for  women  and 
children;  society  else  would  fall  in  pieces."  Without 
subscribing  to  such  a  sentiment,  I  may  say  that  I 
thank  God  for  the  safe  survival  of  strict  religious 
training;  and  I  thank  him  most  of  all  for  emancipa 
tion  from  it.  It  may  be  good  to  be  born  in  a  hotbed 
of  reverential  sectarianism ;  it  is  surely  better,  at  some 
later  time,  to  escape  it. 

Excess  of  any  kind  is  sure,  sooner  or  later,  to  de 
feat  its  own  ends.  Take,  for  instance,  the  meetings 
inflicted  on  the  society  into  which  destiny  had  pro 
jected  me.  There  w^ere  pulpit  meetings,  conference 
meetings,  missionary  meetings,  temperance  meetings, 
mothers'  meetings,  young  men's  meetings,  Sunday- 
school  meetings,  inquiry  meetings,  moral-reform  meet- 


EARLY  ABOLITIONISM.  71 

rality  principles,  the  more  we  cultivate  in  our  hearts 
the  elements  of  piety,  morality,  and  honesty,  the 
better  and  happier  we  are.  This  the  experience  of 
all  mankind  in  all  ages  teaches,  and  this  our  own  ex 
perience  tells  us  every  day.  Whatever  else  I  know 
or  am  doubtful  of,  one  thing  is  plain  and  sure  to  me: 
to  do  my  duty  as  best  I  may,  each  day  and  hour,  as  it 
comes  before  me;  to  do  the  right  as  best  I  know  it, 
toward  God,  rny  neighbor,  and  myself;  this  done,  and 
I  may  safely  trust  the  rest.  To  know  the  right,  and 
do  it,  that  is  life.  Compromises  with  misery-breeding 
ignorance,  blind  and  stupid  bigotry,  and  coyings  and 
harlotings  with  pestilential  prudences,  lackadaisical 
loiterings  and  tamperings  with  conscience,  when  right 
on  before  you  is  the  plain  Christ- trodden  path— 
these  things  are  death.  He  who  knows  the  right  and 
does  it,  never  dies;  he  who  tampers  with  the  wrong, 
dies  every  day.  But  alas!  conduct  is  one  thing  and 
rules  of  conduct  quite  another. 

Nevertheless,  I  say  it  is  better  to  be  righteous 
overmuch  than  to  be  incorrigibly  wicked.  And  so 
the  puritans  of  Granville  thought  as  they  enlarged 
their  meeting-houses,  and  erected  huge  seminaries  of 
learning,  and  called  upon  the  benighted  from  all  parts 
to  come  in  and  be  told  the  truth.  Likewise  they  com 
forted  the  colored  race. 

The  most  brilliant  exploit  of  my  life  was  performed 
at  the  tender  age  of  eleven,  when  I  spent  a  whole 
night  in  driving  a  two-horse  wagon  load  of  runaway 
slaves  on  their  way  from  Kentucky  and  slavery  to 
Canada  and  freedom — an  exploit  which  was  regarded 
in  those  days  by  that  community  with  little  less  ap 
probation  than  that  bestowed  by  a  fond  Apache 
mother  upon  the  son  who  brandishes  before  her  his 
first  scalp.  The  ebony  cargo  consisted  of  three  men 
and  two  women,  who  had  been  brought  into  town  the 
night  before  by  some  teamster  of  kindred  mind  to  my 
father's,  and  kept  snugly  stowed  away  from  prying 


72  SPRINGS  AND  LITTLE  BROOKS. 

eyes  during  the  day.  About  nine  o'clock  at  night 
the  large  lumber-box  wagon  filled  with  straw  was 
brought  out,  and  the  black  dissenters  from  the  Ameri 
can  constitution,  who  so  lightly  esteemed  our  glorious 
land  of  freedom,  were  packed  under  the  straw,  and 
some  blankets  and  sacks  thrown  carelessly  over  them, 
so  that  outwardly  there  might  be  no  significance  of 
the  dark  and  hidden  meaning  of  the  load.  My  care 
ful  mother  bundled  me  in  coats  and  scarfs,  to  keep  me 
from  freezing,  and  with  a  round  of  good-bys,  given 
not  without  some  apprehensions  for  my  safety,  and 
with  minute  instructions,  repeated  many  times  lest  I 
should  forget  them,  I  climbed  to  my  seat,  took  the 
reins,  and  drove  slowly  out  of  town.  Once  or  twice  I 
was  hailed  by  some  curious  passer-by  with,  "What 
have  you  got  there?"  to  which  I  made  answer  as  in 
such  case  had  been  provided.  Just  what  the  answer 
was  I  have  forgotten,  but  it  partook  somewhat  of 
the  flavor  of  my  mission,  which  was  more  in  the 
direction  of  the  law  of  God  than  of  the  law  of  man. 
Without  telling  an  unadulterated  Ananias  and  Sap- 
phira  lie,  I  gave  the  inquirer  no  very  reliable  informa 
tion;  still,  most  of  the  people  in  that  vicinity  under 
stood  well  enough  what  the  load  meant,  and  were  in 
sympathy  with  the  shippers.  I  was  much  nearer 
danger  when  I  fell  asleep  and  ran  the  wagon  against 
a  tree  near  a  bank,  over  which  my  load  narrowly 
escaped  being  turned.  The  fact  is,  this  was  the  first 
time  in  my  life  I  had  ever  attempted  to  keep  my  eyes 
open  all  night,  and  more  than  once,  as  my  horses 
jogged  along,  I  was  brought  to  my  senses  by  a  jolt, 
and  without  any  definite  idea  of  the  character  of  the 
road  for  some  distance  back.  My  freight  behaved 
very  well;  once  fairly  out  into  the  country,  and  into 
the  night,  the  ' darkies'  straightened  up,  grinned,  and 
appeared  to  enjoy  the  performance  hugely.  During 
the  night  they  would  frequently  get  out  and  walk, 
a1  ways  taking  care  to  keep  carefully  covered  in  passing 
through  a  town.  About  three  o'clock  in  the  morning 


NEGRO  SLAVERY  REFORM.  73 

I  entered  a  village  and  drove  up  to  the  house  whither 
I  had  been  directed,  roused  the  inmates,  and  trans 
ferred  to  them  my  load.  Then  I  drove  back,  sleepy 
but  happy. 

Once  my  father's  barn  was  selected  as  the  most 
available  place  for  holding  a  grand  abolition  meeting, 
the  first  anniversary  of  the  Ohio  State  Anti-Slavery 
society.  Rotten  eggs  flew  lively  about  the  heads  of 
the  speakers,  but  they  suffered  no  serious  incon 
venience  from  them  until  after  the  meeting  was  over 
and  they  had  begun  their  homeward  journey.  Beyond 
the  precincts  of  the  village  they  were  met  by  a  mob, 
and  although  spurring  their  horses  they  did  not  escape 
until  the  foul  flood  had  drenched  them.  Those  were 
happy  days,  when  there  was  something  to  suffer  for; 
now  that  the  slavery  monster  is  dead,  and  the  slayers 
have  well-nigh  spent  their  strength  kicking  the  carcass, 
there  is  no  help  for  reformers  but  to  run  off  into 
woman's  rights,  free-love,  and  a  new  string  of  petty 
isms  which  should  put  them  to  the  blush  after  their 
doughty  deeds.  There  are  yet  many  souls  dissatisfied 
with  God's  management  of  things,  who  feel  them 
selves  ordained  to  re-create  mankind  upon  a  model 
of  their  own.  Unfortunately  the  model  varies,  and 
instead  of  one  creator  we  have  ten  thousand,  who 
turn  the  world  upside  down  with  their  whimsical 
vagaries. 

I  cannot  say  that  my  childhood  was  particularly 
happy;  or  if  it  was,  its  sorrows  are  deeper  graven 
on  my  memory  than  its  joys.  The  fault,  if  fate  be 
fault,  was  not  my  parents',  who  were  always  most 
kind  to  me.  Excessive  sensitiveness  has  ever  been 
my  curse;  since  my  earliest  recollections  I  have 
suffered  from  this  defect  more  than  I  can  tell.  My 
peace  of  mind  has  ever  been  in  hands  other  than  my 
own ;  at  school  rude  boys  cowed  and  tormented  me, 
and  later  knaves  and  fools  have  held  me  in  derision. 

How  painful  to  a  sensitive  mind   is  the  attention 


80  SPRINGS  AND  LITTLE  BROOKS. 

ill.  That  dlvina  particula  aurce,  the  one  little  particle 
of  divine  breath  that  is  within  us,  will  not  let  us  rest. 
As  Pierre  Nicol  has  it,  "L'homme  est  si  miserable, 
quo  1'inconstance  avec  laquelle  il  abandonne  ses  des- 
seins  est,  en  quelque  sorte,  sa  plus  grande  vertu; 
parce  qu'il  teinoigne  par  1&  qu'il  y  a  encore  en  lui 
quelque  reste  de  grandeur  qui  le  porte  &  se  degouter 
des  choses  qui  ne  mdritent  pas  son  amour  et  son 
estime." 

Lovely  little  Granvillel  dear,  quiet  home -nook; 
under  the  long  grass  of  thy  wall-encircled  burial- 
ground  rest  the  bones  of  these  new  puritan  patri 
archs,  whose  chaste  lives,  for  their  descendants,  and 
for  all  who  shall  heed  them,  bridge  the  chasm  between 
the  old  and  the  new,  between  simple  faith  and  soul- 
sacrificing  science,  between  the  east  and  the  west — 
the  chasm  into  which  so  many  have  haplessly  fallen. 
Many  a  strong  man  thou  hast  begotten  and  sent 
forth,  not  cast  upon  the  world  lukewarm,  character 
less,  but  as  sons  well  trained  and  positive  for  good 
or  evil. 

Lovely  in  thy  summer  smiles  and  winter  frowns; 
lovely,  decked  in  dancing  light  and  dew  pearls,  or  in 
night's  star-studded  robe  of  sleep.  Under  the  soft 
sky  of  summer  we  ploughed  and  planted,  made  hay, 
and  harvested  the  grain.  Winter  was  the  time  for 
study,  while  nature,  wrapped  in  her  cold  covering,  lay 
at  rest.  Fun  and  frolic  then  too  were  abroad  on  those 
soft  silvery  nights,  when  the  moon  played  between  the 
brilliant  sky  and  glistening  snow,  and  the  crisp  air 
carried  far  over  the  hills  the  sound  of  bells  and  merry 
laughter.  Then  winter  warms  into  spring,  that  sun- 
spirit  which  chases  away  the  snow,  and  swells  the  buds, 
and  fills  the  air  with  the  melody  of  birds,  and  scatters 
fragrance  over  the  breathing  earth;  and  spring  melts 
into  summer,  and  summer  sighs  her  autumn  exit- 
autumn,  loved  by  many  as  the  sweetest,  saddest  time 
of  the  year,  when  the  husbandman,  after  laying  up  his 


MY  CHILDHOOD  HOME.  81 

winter  store,  considers  for  a  moment  his  past  and 
future,  when  the  squirrel  heaps  its  nest  with  nuts, 
and  the  crow  flies  to  the  woods,  and  the  cries  of  birds 
of  passage  in  long  angular  processions  are  heard  high 
in  air,  and  the  half-denuded  forest  is  tinged  with  the 
hectic  flush  of  dying  foliage. 

I  well  remember,  on  returning  from  my  absence, 
with  what  envy  and  dislike  I  regarded  as  interlopers 
those  who  then  occupied  iny  childhood  home;  and 
child  as  I  was,  the  earliest  and  most  determined  ambi 
tion  of  my  life  was  to  work  and  earn  the  money  to 
buy  back  the  old  stone  house.  Ah  God !  how  with 
swelling  heart,  and  flushed  cheek,  and  brain  on  fire,  I 
have  later  tramped  again  that  ground,  the  ground  my 
boyhood  trod;  how  I  have  skirted  it  about,  and  wan 
dered  through  its  woods,  and  nestled  in  its  hedges, 
listening  to  the  rustling  leaves  and  still  forest  mur- 
murings  that  seemed  to  tell  me  of  the  past;  uncov 
ering  my  head  to  the  proud  old  elms  that  nodded  to 
me  as  I  passed,  and  gazing  at  the  wild -flowers  that 
looked  up  into  my  face  and  smiled  as  I  trod  them, 
even  as  time  had  trodden  my  young  heart;  whis 
pering  to  the  birds  that  stared  strangely  at  me  and 
would  not  talk  to  me — none  save  the  bickering  black 
bird,  and  the  distant  turtle-dove  to  whose  mournful 
tone  my  breast  was  tuned;  watching  in  the  little 
stream  the  minnows  that  I  used  to  fancy  waited  for 
me  to  come  and  feed  them  before  they  went  to  bed; 
loitering  under  the  golden-sweet  appletree  where  I 
used  to  loll  my  study  hours  away;  eying  the  ill- 
looking  beasts  that  occupied  the  places  of  my  pets, 
while  at  every  step  some  familiar  object  would  send  a 
thousand  sad  memories  tugging  at  my  heartstrings, 
and  call  up  scenes  happening  a  few  years  back  but 
acted  seemingly  ages  ago,  until  I  felt  myself  as  old 
as  Abraham.  There  was  the  orchard,  celestial  white 
and  fragrant  in  its  blossoms,  whose  every  tree  I  could 
tell,  and  the  fruit  that  grew  on  it;  the  meadow, 
through  whose  bristling  stubble  my  naked  feet  had 

LIT.  IND.    6 


CHAPTER    IV. 

THE  COUNTRY  BOY  BECOMES  A  BOOKSELLER. 

No  man  is  born  into  the  world  whose  work  is  not  born  with  him ;  there  is 
always  work  and  tools  to  work  withal,  for  those  who  will. 

Lowell. 

CROSSING  a  muddy  street  one  rainy  day  on  her  way 
to  school,  my  eldest  sister,  dark- eyed  and  tender  of 
heart,  encountered  a  sandy-haired  but  by  no  means 
ill-looking  youth,  who  made  way  for  her  by  stepping 
back  from  the  plank  which  served  pedestrians.  The 
young  man  was  a  member  of  the  Derby  family  of  book 
sellers,  afterward  noted  for  their  large  establishments 
in  various  cities.  Of  course  these  two  young  persons, 
thus  thrown  together  on  this  muddy  crossing,  fell  in 
love ;  how  else  could  it  be  ?  and  in  due  time  were  mar 
ried,  vowing  thenceforth  to  cross  all  muddy  streets  in 
company,  and  not  from  opposite  directions.  And  in 
this  rain,  and  mud,  and  marriage,  I  find  another  of  the 
causes  that  led  me  to  embark  in  literature.  The 
marriage  took  place  in  1845,  when  I  was  thirteen 
years  of  age,  and  the  happy  couple  made  their  home 
in  Geneva,  New  York,  where  Mr  Derby  was  then 
doing  business.  Subsequently  he  removed  his  book 
store  and  family  to  Buffalo. 

On  our  return  from  the  land  of  milk  and  honey,  as 
we  at  first  soberly  and  afterward  ironically  called  our 
southern  prairie  home,  my  father  entered  into  copart 
nership  with  one  Wright,  a  tanner  and  farmer.  The 
tasks  then  imposed  upon  me  were  little  calculated  to 
give  content  or  yield  profit.  Mingled  with  my  school 
and  Sunday  duties,  interspersed  with  occasional  times 

[89] 


96  THE  COUNTRY  BOY  BECOMES  A  BOOKSELLER. 

that  at  the  age  of  three  years  I  could  read  the  New 
Testament  without  having  to  spell  out  many  of  the 
words.  If  that  be  true  the  talent  must  have  ended 
with  my  childhood,  for  later  on  taking  up  study  I 
found  it  almost  impossible  to  learn,  and  still  more 
difficult  to  remember,  whatever  talent  I  may  have 
possessed  in  that  direction  having  been  driven  out  of 
me  in  the  tread-mill  of  business. 

One  winter  I  was  sent  to  the  brick  school-house,  a 
rusty  red  monument  of  orthodox  efforts,  long  since 
torn  down.  There  presided  over  the  boys  at  one  time 
my  mother's  brother.  The  Howes  engaged  in  school- 
teaching  naturally,  they  and  their  children,  boys  and 
girls,  without  asking  themselves  why.  The  family 
have  taught  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific,  in  New 
York,  Ohio,  Iowa,  Nevada,  Oregon,  and  California. 
They  were  good  teachers,  and  they  were  good  for 
nothing  else.  Take  from  them  their  peculiar  knack 
of  imparting  knowledge  and  there  were  left  only  bones 
and  nerves  kept  in  motion  by  a  purposeless  brain. 
The  one  who  taught  in  Granville  had  written  a 
grammar,  and  all  the  boys  were  compelled  to  study  it. 
It  consisted  chiefly  of  rules  which  could  not  be  under 
stood,  and  contained  little  of  the  kind  of  examples 
which  remained  fastened  in  the  mind  to  be  afterward 
of  practical  value.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  children  now 
learn  twice  as  much  with  half  the  trouble.  Then  the 
study  of  grammar  under  a  grammar-making  uncle  did 
me  little  good. 

Those  Howe  grammar  lessons  were  the  curse  of 
that  winter.  Often  I  wept  over  the  useless  and  dis 
tasteful  drudgery,  but  in  vain.  Tears  were  a  small 
argument  with  my  parents  where  they  deemed  duty 
to  be  concerned;  and  the  brother  made  my  mother 
believe  that  if  I  failed  in  one  jot  or  tittle  of  his 
grammar  there  would  be  no  hope  for  me  afterward 
in  any  direction.  Mathematics  I  enjoyed.  Stretched 
on  the  hearth  before  a  blazing  fire,  with  book  and 
slate,  I  worked  out  my  problems  during  the  long 


112  THE  COUNTRY  BOY  BECOMES  A  BOOKSELLER. 

and  began  distributing  my  goods  among  the  country 
merchants  of  that  vicinity.  For  about  four  months 
I  travelled  in  this  manner  over  different  parts  of 
my  native  state,  selling,  remitting,  and  ordering  more 
goods,  and  succeeding  in  the  main  very  well;  that  is 
to  say,  I  paid  my  expenses,  and  all  the  obligations  I 
had  before  contracted,  and  had  enough  left  to  buy  a 
silver  watch,  and  a  suit  of  black  broadcloth.  Never 
was  watch  like  that  watch,  fruit  as  it  was  of  my  first 
commercial  earnings. 

Winter  approaching,  I  sold  out  my  stock,  paid  my 
debts,  and  went  home.  Owing  to  my  success,  it  seems, 
I  had  risen  somewhat  in  the  estimation  of  the  Buffalo 
book  magnates,  and  just  as  my  mind  was  made  up  to 
enter  school  for  the  winter  I  was  summoned  back  to 
Buffalo,  with  instructions  to  bring  my  youngest  sister, 
Mary,  afterward  Mrs  Trevett.  We  embarked  at 
Sandusky,  encountering  the  first  night  out  a  storm, 
and  after  beating  about  among  the  short  jerky  waves 
of  the  lake  for  two  days,  we  reached  Buffalo  on  the 
8th  of  December,  1849.  This  time  I  was  to  enter 
the  store  as  a  recognized  clerk,  and  was  to  receive  a 
salary  of  one  hundred  dollars  a  year  from  the  first  of 
January,  1850. 

I  now  began  to  look  upon  myself  as  quite  a  man. 
A  hundred  dollars  was  a  great  deal  of  money;  I  was 
over  seventeen  years  of  age,  had  travelled,  had  been 
in  business,  and  was  experienced.  So  I  relaxed  a  little 
from  puritanical  ideas  of  propriety.  I  bought  a  high 
hat  and  a  cane;  smoked  now  and  then  surreptitiously 
a  cigar;  a  gaudy  tie  adorned  my  neck,  and  a  flashy 
ring  encircled  my  finger.  I  do  not  think  I  ever  held 
myself  in  higher  estimation  before  or  since;  at  no 
time  of  my  life  did  I  ever  presume  so  much  on  my 
knowledge,  or  present  personally  so  fine  an  appear 
ance.  On  the  street  I  fancied  all  eyes  to  be  upon 
me;  the  girls  particularly,  I  used  to  think,  were  all 
in  love  with  me. 

Honored  and  trusted,  my  moroseness  evaporated  at 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST.  117 

It  was  a  few  months  before  I  left  my  home  for  the 
first  time  that  gold  had  been  discovered  in  California; 
but  not  until  a  year  later  did  the  news  so  overspread 
the  country  as  to  cause  any  excitement  in  the  quiet 
town  of  Granville.  Scarcely  had  I  reached  Buffalo 
the  second  time  when  letters  informed  me  that  my 
father  was  thinking  of  going  to  the  new  El  Dorado. 
The  ancient  leaven  of  industry  and  enterprise  still 
worked  in  him,  and  although  far  past  the  average  age 
of  those  who  joined  the  pilgrimage  to  the  golden 
shrine,  he  could  not  resist  the  temptation.  Though 
but  little  over  fifty,  he  was  called  an  old  man  in  those 
days  in  California.  By  the  1st  of  February  it  was 
settled  that  he  would  go,  and  in  March,  1850,  he  set 
sail  from  New  York.  I  had  a  boyish  desire  to  ac 
company  him,  but  did  not  think  seriously  of  going  at 
the  time.  I  was  more  absorbed  in  flirtations,  oyster 
suppers,  and  dancing  parties  than  fascinated  by  the 
prospect  of  digging  for  gold. 

Nevertheless  the  wheel  of  my  destiny  was  turning. 
In  January,  1851,  Mr  Derby  received  a  letter  from 
an  uncle  of  mine,  my  mother's  brother,  then  in 
Oregon,  ordering  quite  a  quantity  of  books.  This 
demand,  coming  from  a  new  and  distant  market,  made 
quite  an  impression  upon  the  mind  of  the  ardent 
young  bookseller.  Visions  filled  his  brain  of  mam 
moth  warehouses  rising  in  vast  cities  along  the  shores 
of  the  Pacific,  of  publication  offices  and  manufacturing 
establishments,  having  hundreds  of  busy  clerks  and  arti 
sans,  buying,  making,  and  selling  books,  and  he  would 
walk  the  floor  excitedly  and  talk  of  these  things  by  the 
hour,  until  he  was  wellnigh  ready  to  sell  out  a  safe 
and  profitable  business,  pack  up,  and  go  to  California 
himself.  These  visions  were  prophetic;  and  through 
his  instrumentality  one  such  establishment  as  he  had 
dreamed  of  was  planted  in  the  metropolis  of  this  west 
ern  seaboard,  although  he  did  not  live  to  know  of  it. 

My  nearest  companion  at  this  time  was  a  fellow- 
clerk,  George  L.  Kenny,  the  son  of  an  Irish  gentleman. 


CHAPTER  V. 

HAIL  CALIFORNIA!    ESTO  PERPETUA! 

Never  despair ;  but  if  you  do,  work  in  despair. 

Burke. 

A  DETAILED  description  of  an  early  voyage  from 
New  York  to  Chagres,  across  the  Isthmus  to  Pan 
ama",  and  thence  to  San  Francisco,  belongs  rather  to 
the  time  than  to  the  individual.  So  large  a  por 
tion  of  the  Californian's  life,  during  the  first  twenty 
years  following  the  discovery  of  gold,  was  occupied 
in  the  passage  by  the  various  routes  from  one  side  of 
the  continent  to  the  other,  that  a  picture  of  that 
epoch,  with  this  prominent  and  characteristic  scene 
left  out,  would  be  unfinished.  During  the  first  fifteen 
years  of  my  residence  on  the  western  coast  I  made 
the  passage  between  New  York  and  San  Francisco 
by  way  of  Panamd  no  less  than  eleven  times,  thus 
spending  on  the  water  nearly  one  year,  or  what  would 
be  almost  equivalent  to  every  other  Sunday  during 
that  time.  Many  made  the  voyage  twice  or  thrice 
as  often,  and  life  on  the  steamer  was  but  a  part  of 
California  life.  It  was  there  the  beginning  was  made ; 
it  was  sometimes  the  ending.  It  was  there  the  an 
gular  eccentricities  were  first  filed  off,  and  roughly 
filed,  as  many  a  soft-bearded  fledgling  thought.  It 
was  there  the  excrescences  of  egotism  and  the  morbid 
superfluities  fastened  on  the  character  by  local  train 
ing,  or  lack  of  training,  first  began  the  rub  against  the 
excrescences  and  superfluities  of  others,  all  of  which 
tended  to  the  ultimate  polish  and  perfection  of  the 
mass. 

1120] 


THE  VOYAGE  AND  ARRIVAL.  121 

In  my  California  Inter  Pocula  I  have  given  a  full 
account  of  the  voyage  out.  I  have  there  given  it  in 
detail,  not  because  of  anything  particularly  striking, 
but  to  show  what  the  voyage  in  those  days  was;  for, 
excepting  shipwrecks,  epidemics,  or  other  special  hard 
ships,  they  were  all  very  like.  I  shall  not  therefore 
repeat  the  description  here,  but  merely  say  that  on 
the  24th  of  February,  1852,  in  company  with  Mr 
Kenny,  I  embarked  at  New  York  on  the  steamer 
George  Law,  bound  for  Habana.  On  reaching  this 
port  the  sixth  day,  passengers,  mails,  and  freight  were 
transferred,  with  those  of  the  steamer  from  New  Or 
leans,  to  the  Georgia,  which  that  night  sailed  for 
Chagres,  touching  at  Jamaica.  Arrived  at  Chagres 
we  were  sent  to  Aspinwall  to  disembark,  so  as  to  ride 
over  some  six  or  eight  miles  of  the  Panamd  railway 
just  then  opened  for  that  distance — that  we  might 
ride  over  the  road  and  pay  the  fare.  After  the  usual 
delay  on  the  Isthmus  we  embarked  on  the  steamer 
Panama  the  12th  of  March,  touched  at  several  ports 
on  the  Pacific,  and  reached  San  Francisco  at  twelve 
o'clock  the  first  day  of  April. 

When  I  arrived  in  California  John  Bigler  was  gov 
ernor.  The  capital  had  just  been  removed  from  Yal- 
lejo  to  Sacramento.  In  San  Francisco  the  wars  with 
squatters,  Peter  Smith  titles,  and  water -lot  frauds 
were  attracting  the  chief  attention.  Portions  of  the 
streets  were  brilliantly  lighted  from  the  glare  of  gam 
bling-saloons ;  elsewhere  all  was  thick  darkness.  On 
Montgomery  street,  indeed,  lamps  were  posted  by  the 
occupants,  but  there  was  no  system  of  street  lights, 
and  in  the  dark  places  about  the  docks,  in  the  back 
streets,  and  round  the  suburbs,  many  dark  deeds  were 
committed.  Crime,  driven  into  holes  and  hiding-places 
by  the  Vigilance  Committee  of  1851,  was  beginning 
to  show  its  face  again,  but  the  authorities,  wakened  to 
a  livelier  sense  of  duty  by  the  late  arbitrary  action  of 
the  citizens,  were  more  on  the  alert  than  formerly,  and 
•criminals  were  caught  and  punished  with  some  degree 


128  HAIL  CALIFORNIA!     ESTO  PERPETUA! 

boarding-house  near  by,  and  left  shortly  afterward  for 
Rich  bar. 

I  cannot  say  that  I  enjoyed  this  kind  of  life,  and 
could  scarcely  have  endured  it  but  for  the  thought 
that  it  was  only  temporary.  At  night  the  animals 
were  turned  loose  to  graze.  Early  in  the  morning, 
long  before  the  sun  had  risen,  I  was  up  and  over  the 
hills  after  them.  Stiff  and  sore  from  the  previous 
day's  work,  wet  with  wading  through  the  long  damp 
grass,  I  was  in  no  humor  to  enjoy  those  glorious 
mornings,  ushered  in  by  myriads  of  sweet  songsters 
welcoming  the  warm  sunlight  which  came  tremblingly 
through  the  soft  misty  air.  To  the  clouds  of  top- 
knotted  quails  which  rose  at  my  approach,  the  leaping 
hare,  the  startled  deer,  and  the  thick  beds  of  fresh 
fragrant  flowers  which  I  trampled  under  my  feet,  I 
was  alike  indifferent.  The  music  of  the  mules  alone 
allured  me,  though  the  clapper  of  the  bell  which  told 
me  where  they  were  beat  discordantly  on  my  strained 
ear.  Back  to  my  breakfast  and  then  to  work.  How 
I  loaded  and  lashed  the  poor  dumb  beasts  in  my  dis 
temper,  and  gritted  my  teeth  with  vexation  over  the 
unwelcome  task !  The  sharp  rock  cut  my  hands,  the 
heavy  logs  of  wood  strained  my  muscles;  and  my 
temper,  never  one  of  the  sweetest,  fumed  and  fretted 
like  that  of  a  newly  chained  cub.  Were  it  in  my 
power  I  would  have  pluralized  those  mules  so  as  to 
smite  the  more.  Some  woods  send  forth  fragrance 
under  the  tool  of  the  carver.  Such  was  not  my  na 
ture.  I  never  took  kindly  to  misfortune;  prosperity 
fits  me  like  a  glove.  It  is  good  to  be  afflicted;  but 
I  do  not  like  to  receive  the  good  in  that  way.  "Bo- 
narum  rerum  consuetudo  est  pessima,"  says  Publius 
Syrus;  but  such  has  not  been  my  experience.  I  will 
admit  that  adversity  may  be  good  for  other  people, 
but  the  continuance  of  prosperity,  I  verily  believe, 
has  never  by  any  means  been  prejudicial  to  me,  either 
in  mind  or  morality.  Byron  thought  Shelley,  who 


FAILURE  AND  ABANDONMENT.  129 

had  borne  up  manfully  under  adversity,  the  most 
amiable  of  men,  until  he  saw  Lord  Blessington,  who 
had  retained  his  gentle  good  nature  through  a  long 
series  of  unvarying  prosperity. 

The  night  before  leaving  Buffalo  I  had  danced 
until  morning.  It  happened  that  about  the  only 
clothes  saved  from  the  thieves  of  the  Isthmus  were 
the  ones  used  on  that  occasion.  These  I  wore  until 
work  turned  them  into  rags.  In  the  pocket  I  one 
day  found  a  pair  of  white  kid  gloves,  relic  of  past 
revelries,  and  putting  them  on  I  gathered  up  the 
reins,  mounted  the  load,  and  beating  my  mules  into 
a  round  trot,  rode  up  to  the  mill  laughing  bitterly 
at  the  absurdity  of  the  thing.  It  was  the  irony  of 
gentlemanly  digging.  Ten  or  twelve  loads  was  a  fair 
day's  work;  I  hauled  twenty  or  twenty-five.  A  dollar 
a  load  was  the  price  allowed — but  it  was  not  money, 
it  was  wrath,  that  made  me  do  it.  My  father,  though 
mild  in  his  treatment  of  me,  expostulated.  He  feared 
I  would  kill  the  animals.  I  said  nothing,  but  when 
out  of  his  sight  I  only  drove  them  the  harder.  Little 
cared  I  whether  the  mules  or  myself  were  killed. 
Sunday  was  a  day  of  rest,  but  on  Monday  I  felt  sorer 
in  body  and  mind  than  on  any  other  day.  I  had 
brought  plenty  of  books  with  me,  but  could  not  read, 
or  if  I  did  it  was  only  to  raise  a  flood  of  longings 
which  seemed  sometimes  to  overwhelm  me.  My  soul 
was  in  harmony  with  nothing  except  the  coyotes  which 
all  night  howled  discordantly  behind  the  hills. 

After  two  months  of  this  kind  of  life  the  hot 
weather  was  upon  us.  The  streams  began  to  dry 
up;  water  was  becoming  scarce.  We  had  heaped  up 
the  wood  and  the  rock  about  the  mill,  and  my  tally 
showed  a  long  score  against  the  company  for  work. 
But  the  mill  did  not  pay.  There  was  always  some 
thing  wrong  about  it,  some  little  obstacle  that  stood 
in  the  way  of  immediate  brilliant  success:  the  stamps 
were  not  heavy  enough,  or  the  metal  was  too  soft, 
or  they  did  not  work  smoothly;  the  rest  of  the  ma- 


LIT.  Ixn.    9 


DARK  DAYS.  135 

Well,  the  goods  arrived,  and  the  firm  of  Cooke, 
Kenny,  and  Company  was  organized,  the  company 
being  a  young  friend  of  Mr  Cooke.  I  had  free  ac 
cess  to  the  premises,  and  watched  matters  closely  for 
a  while.  Everything  went  on  satisfactorily,  and  the 
whole  amount  was  remitted  to  the  executors  of  Mr 
Derby's  estate  according  to  agreement.  Meanwhile  I 
had  applied  myself  more  earnestly  than  ever  to  obtain 
work  of  some  kind.  I  felt  obliged  to  stay  in  San 
Francisco  until  my  account  with  the  estate  was  settled, 
unwilling  to  trust  any  one  for  that,  and  I  greatly  pre 
ferred  remaining  in  the  city  altogether.  Mines  and 
the  miners,  and  country  trading  of  any  kind,  had  be 
come  exceedingly  distasteful  to  me.  I  felt,  if  an  op 
portunity  were  offered,  that  I  would  prove  competent 
and  faithful  in  almost  any  capacity;  for  though  diffident 
I  had  an  abundance  of  self-conceit,  or  at  least  of  self- 
reliance,  and  would  do  anything.  Accustomed  to  work 
all  my  life,  idleness  was  to  me  the  greatest  of  afflic 
tions.  My  bones  ached  for  occupation  and  I  envied 
the  very  hod-carriers. 

Thus  for  six  months,  day  after  day,  I  tramped  the 
streets  of  San  Francisco  seeking  work,  and  failed  to 
find  it.  Thousands  have  since  in  like  manner  applied 
to  me,  and  remembering  how  the  harsh  refusals  once 
cut  my  sensitive  nature,  I  try  to  be  kind  to  applicants 
of  whatsoever  degree,  and  if  not  always  able  to  give 
work  I  can  at  least  offer  sympathy  and  advice.  Finally, 
sick  with  disappointment,  I  determined  to  leave  the 
city:  not  for  the  Sierra  foothills;  rather  China,  or 
Australia.  The  choice  must  be  made  quickly,  for 
the  last  dollar  from  Rich  bar  was  gone,  and  I  would 
not  live  on  others,  or  run  in  debt  with  nothing  where 
with  to  pay.  Often  I  wandered  down  about  the 
shipping  and  scanned  the  vessels  for  different  ports. 
I  knew  little  of  the  various  parts  of  the  world,  and 
had  little  choice  where  to  go.  My  future  turned  upon 
a  hair. 

In  the  spring  of  1853  the  San  Francisco  papers 


CRESCENT  CITY.  137 

dirt  that  made  glad  the  hearts  of  those  awaiting 
them  in  their  eastern  homes.  Several  parties  went 
in  search  of  this  lone  cabin  at  various  times.  It  was 
confidently  believed  that  some  day  it  would  be  found, 
and  when  that  day  should  come,  a  seaport  town,  with 
railways,  wharves,  and  shipping,  would  be  absolutely 
necessary  to  furnish  the  diggers  in  that  vicinity  with 
food  and  clothing,  tents,  strychnine  whiskey,  and 
playing-cards,  and  receive  and  export  for  the  honest 
magnates  the  tons  of  heavy  yellow  stuff  which  they 
would  shovel  up. 

Knowing  of  no  better  place,  I  determined  to  try 
my  fortune  at  Crescent  City;  so,  with  fifty  dollars 
borrowed,  and  a  case  of  books  and  stationery  bought 
on  credit,  I  embarked  on  board  the  steamer  Columbia 
about  the  middle  of  May.  Two  days  and  one  night 
the  voyage  lasted — long  enough,  with  the  crowded 
state  of  the  vessel  and  the  poor  comforts  at  my  com 
mand,  to  leave  me  on  landing  completely  prostrated 
with  sea-sickness  and  fatigue.  Taken  ashore  in  a 
whale-boat,  I  crawled  to  a  hotel  and  went  to  bed.  My 
box  was  landed  in  a  lighter,  but  for  a  day  or  two  I 
made  no  attempt  at  business.  Adjoining  the  hotel 
was  the  general  merchandise  store  of  Crowell  and 
Fairfield,  and  there  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  Mr 
Crowell,  which  resulted  in  mutual  confidence  and  es 
teem.  Mr  Fairfield  was  then  absent  at  the  bay.  As 
our  friendship  increased,  Mr  Crowell  occasionally  re 
quested  me  to  attend  the  store  during  his  absence,  and 
also  to  enter  in  the  day-book  sales  which  he  had  made. 
At  length,  on  learning  my  purpose,  he  made  me  an 
offer  of  fifty  dollars  a  month  to  keep  his  books,  with 
the  privilege  of  placing  my  stock  on  his  shelves  and 
selling  from  it  for  my  own  account  free  of  charge. 
I  gladly  accepted,  and  was  soon  enrolled  as  book 
keeper  and  book-seller.  On  his  return  Mr  Fairfield 
ratified  the  arrangement,  and  we  were  ever  after  the 
best  of  friends.  As  I  slept  in  the  store,  indulged  in 
little  dissipation,  and  was  not  extravagant  in  dress,  my 


CHAPTEE  VI. 

THE  HOUSE  OF  H.  H.  BANCROFT  AND  COMPANY. 

Seest  thou  a  man  diligent  in  business,  he  shall  stand  before  kings;  he 
shall  not  stand  before  mean  men. 

Proverbs. 

HOME  again !  None  but  a  wanderer,  and  a  youthful 
wanderer,  can  feel  those  words  in  their  fullest  import. 
Back  from  the  first  three  years  in  California.  Out 
of  the  depths  and  into  paradise.  Away  from  har 
assing  cares,  from  the  discordant  contentions  of 
money-getting,  from  the  contaminations  of  filthy  de 
baucheries,  beyond  the  shot  of  pistol  or  reach  of 
bowie-knife,  safe  home,  there  let  me  rest.  Nor  does 
the  prestige  of  success  lessen  the  pleasure  of  the  re 
turned  Californian.  Even  our  warmest  friends  are 
human.  Those  who  would  nurse  us  most  kindly  in 
sickness,  who  would  spare  no  self-denial  for  our  com 
fort,  who,  unworthy  as  we  might  be  of  their  affection, 
would  die  for  us  if  necessary,  the  hearts  of  even  these 
in  their  thanksgiving  are  warmed  with  pride  if  to 
their  welcome  they  may  add  "Well  done!" 

How  the  snappish  frosty  air  tingles  the  blood,  and 
lightens  the  feet,  and  braces  the  sinews.  How  white 
the  soft  snow  resting  silently  on  trees  and  lawn,  and 
how  the  music  of  the  bells  rings  in  the  heart  the  re 
membrance  of  old  time  merrymakings !  Rosy-cheeked 
girls,  muffled  in  woollens  and  furs,  frolic  their  way 
to  school,  filling  the  clear  cold  air  with  their  musical 
laughter,  and  blooming  young  ladies  grace  the  side 
walk  in  such  numbers  as  would  turn  a  mining  camp 
topsy-turvy  for  a  month.  Oysters  I  How  the  whilom 
bean -and -bacon  eaters  regale  themselves!  First  a 

(142) 


THE  RESOLVE  OF  MY  SISTER.  145 

"  You  remember  the  money  sent  from  California  in 
return  for  goods  shipped  by  Mr  Derby?" 

"  Yes." 

"  The  money  is  now  so  invested  that  I  am  fearful 
of  losing  it.  Help  me  to  get  it,  then  take  it  and  use 
it  in  any  way  you  think  best." 

"  I  will  help  you  to  get  it,"  said  I,  "most  certainly, 
but  I  could  not  sleep  knowing  that  your  comfort  de 
pended  on  my  success.  I  may  be  honest  and  capable, 
and  yet  fail.  I  may  woo  fortune  but  I  cannot  com 
mand  her.  The  risk  is  altogether  too  great  for  you 
to  take." 

"  Nevertheless  I  will  take  it,"  replied  my  noble 
sister,  and  in  that  decision  she  decided  my  destiny. 

How  a  seemingly  small  thing,  as  we  have  before 
remarked,  will  sometimes  turn  the  current,  not  only 
of  a  man's  own  future  life,  but  that  of  his  friends,  his 
family,  and  multitudes  who  shall  come  after  him.  In 
this  womanish  resolve  of  my  sister — womanish  because 
prompted  by  the  heart  rather  than  by  the  head — the 
destinies  of  many  hundreds  of  men  and  women  were 
wrapped.  By  it  my  whole  career  in  California  was 
changed,  and  with  mine  that  of  my  father's  entire 
family.  Herein  is  another  cause,  if  we  choose  to  call 
it  so,  of  my  embarking  in  literature.  I  hesitated  yet 
further  about  taking  the  money,  but  finally  concluded 
that  I  might  keep  it  safely  for  her;  if  not,  there  was 
yet  the  Crescent  City  property  to  fall  back  upon. 

After  some  little  difficulty  we  succeeded  in  drawing 
the  money,  five  thousand  five  hundred  dollars,  which 
sum  was  placed  in  my  hands.  I  then  asked  her  if  she 
would  accept  a  partnership  in  my  proposed  under 
taking;  but  she  answered  no,  she  would  prefer  my  note, 
made  payable  in  five  or  six  years,  with  interest  at  the 
rate  of  one  per  cent  a  month. 

Now  it  was  that  I  determined  to  execute  the  origi 
nal  plan  formed  by  Mr  Derby,  in  pursuance  of  which 
I  first  went  to  California;  and  that  with  the  very 
money,  I  might  say,  employed  by  him,  this  being  the 

LIT.  IND.    10  ' 


148         THE  HOUSE  OF  H.  H.  BANCROFT  AND  COMPANY. 

corner  of  Montgomery  and  Merchant  streets,  where 
ten  years  before  a  yerba-buena  bordered  sand-bank 
was  washed  by  the  tide- waters  of  the  bay.  Our  stock 
arriving  shortly  after  in  good  order,  we  opened  it  and 
began  business  under  the  firm  name  of  H.  H.  Ban 
croft  and  Company  about  the  first  of  December,  1856. 
There  was  nothing  peculiar  in  the  shop,  its  contents, 
business,  or  proprietors,  that  I  am  aware  of.  During 
the  closing  months  of  the  year,  and  the  opening 
months  of  the  year  following,  the  inside  was  exposed 
to  the  weather  while  the  building  was  taking  on  a 
new  front;  but  in  such  a  climate  this  was  no  hard 
ship.  At  night  we  closed  the  opening  with  empty 
boxes,  and  I  turned  into  a  cot  bed  under  the  counter 
to  sleep;  in  the  morning  I  arose,  removed  the  boxes, 
swept  the  premises,  put  the  stock  in  order,  breakfasted, 
and  was  then  ready  to  post  books,  sell  goods,  or  carry 
bundles,  according  to  the  requirements  of  the  hour. 
We  let  two  offices,  one  to  Mr  Woods,  the  broker,  and 
one  to  Jonathan  Hunt,  insurance  agent,  and  thus  re 
duced  our  rent  one  third,  the  original  sum  being  two 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars  a  month.  With  the  constant 
fear  of  failure  before  me,  I  worked  and  watched  un 
ceasingly.  Mr  Kenny  was  salesman,  for  he  was  much 
more  familiar  with  the  business  than  I;  he  possessed 
many  friends  and  had  already  a  good  trade  estab 
lished.  Affairs  progressed  smoothly ;  we  worked  hard 
and  made  money,  first  slowly,  then  faster.  Times  were 
exceedingly  dull.  Year  after  year  the  gold  crop  had 
diminished ;  or  if  not  diminished,  it  required  twice  the 
labor  and  capital  to  produce  former  results.  Stocks 
had  accumulated,  merchants  had  fallen  in  arrears,  and 
business  depression  was  far  greater  than  at  any  time 
since  the  discovery  of  gold.  In  the  vernacular  of  the 
day,  trade  had  touched  bottom.  But  hard  times  are 
the  very  best  of  times  in  which  to  plant  and  nourish 
a  permanent  business.  Hard  times  lead  to  careful 
trading  and  thrift;  flush  times  to  recklessness  and 
overdoing.  On  every  side  of  us  old  firms  were  falling 


CHAPTER  VII. 

FROM    BIBLIOPOLIST    TO    BIBLIOPHILE. 

Still  am  I  besy  bokes  assemblynge ; 

For  to  have  plenty,  it  is  a  pleasaunt  thynge. 

Brandt. 

THUS  far,  all  through  life,  had  my  intellectual  being 
craved  ever  more  substantial  nutriment.  While  in 
business  I  was  Mammon's  devotee ;  yet  money  did  not 
satisfy  me.  Religion  tended  rather  to  excite  longings 
than  to  allay  them.  Religionists  would  say  I  did 
not  have  enough  of  it,  if  indeed  I  had  any  at  all — in 
other  words  I  was  not  doctrinally  dead  drunk.  Yet 
I  fasted  and  prayed,  prayed  as  if  to  enlist  all  the 
forces  of  heaven  to  make  a  man  of  me,  and  fancied 
I  had  faith,  fancied  I  saw  miracles  wrought  in  my 
behalf  and  mountains  removed;  though  later,  when 
my  eyes  were  opened  and  my  prejudices  melted  by 
the  light  of  reason,  even  as  the  sun  dispels  the  fog, 
I  saw  the  mountains  standing  just  where  they  were. 
Yet  for  a  time  I  revelled  in  the  delights  of  fanaticism. 
The  feeling  that  in  God's  presence  and  before  the 
very  eyes  of  interested  omnipotence  I  was  conscien 
tiously  accomplishing  my  duties,  this  gave  a  consola 
tion  that  the  drudgery  of  Sunday-school  efforts,  or 
even  the  overwhelming  shame  of  breaking  down  in 
prayer-meeting,  could  not  wholly  eradicate.  Neverthe 
less,  saintship  sat  not  gracefully  upon  me.  I  knew 
myself  to  be  not  what  I  professed  to  be,  better  or  dif 
ferent  from  other  sinners,  any  more  than  were  those 
who  sat  in  the  pews  around  me ;  so  I  struggled,  beat 
ing  the  air  and  longing  for  a  more  realistic  existence. 

[168J 


OMNIPOTENT  ACCIDENT.  173 

of  one  life  and  the  entering  upon  another,  so  different 
and  distinct  are  the  two  worlds,  the  world  of  business 
and  the  world  of  letters. 

In  an  old  diary  begun  the  5th  of  May,  1859,  I  find 
written:  " To-day  I  am  twenty-seven  years  of  age. 
In  my  younger  days  I  used  to  think  it  praiseworthy 
to  keep  a  diary.  I  do  a  great  deal  of  thinking  at 
times;  some  of  it  may  amount  to  something,  much  of 
it  does  not.  I  often  feel  that  if  I  could  indulge,  to 
the  fullest  and  freest  extent,  in  the  simple  act  of 
discharging  my  thoughts  on  paper,  it  would  afford  my 
mind  some  relief." 

To  begin  at  the  beginning.  In  1859  William  H. 
Knight,  then  in  my  service  as  editor  and  compiler  of 
statistical  works  relative  .to  the  Pacific  coast,  was  en 
gaged  in  preparing  the  Hand- Book  Almanac  for  the 
year  1860.  From  time  to  time  he  asked  of  me  certain 
books  required  for  the  work.  It  occurred  to  me  that 
we  should  probably  have  frequent  occasion  to  refer  to 
books  on  California,  Oregon,  Washington,  and  Utah, 
and  that  it  might  be  more  convenient  to  have  them 
all  together.  I  always  had  a  taste,  more  pleasant 
than  profitable,  for  publishing  books,  for  conceiving  a 
work  and  having  it  wrought  out  under  my  direction. 
To  this  taste  may  be  attributed  the  origin  of  half  the 
books  published  in  California  during  the  first  twenty 
years  of  its  existence  as  a  state,  if  we  except  law  re 
ports,  legislative  proceedings,  directories,  and  compila 
tions  of  that  character.  Yet  I  have  seldom  published 
anything  but  law-books  that  did  not  result  in  a  loss 
of  money.  Books  for  general  reading,  miscellaneous 
books  in  trade  vernacular,  even  if  intrinsically  good, 
found  few  purchasers  in  California.  The  field  was  not 
large  enough;  there  were  not  enough  book  buyers  in 
it  to  absorb  an  edition  of  any  work,  except  a  law- 
book,  or  a  book  intended  as  a  working  tool  for  a  class. 
Lawyers  like  solid  leverage,  and  in  the  absence  of 
books  they  are  powerless;  they  cannot  afford  to  be 


174  FROM  BIBLIOPOLIST  TO  BIBLIOPHILE. 

without  them ;  they  buy  them  as  mill-men  buy  stones 
to  grind  out  toll  withal.  Physicians  do  not  require 
so  many  books,  but  some  have  fine  libraries.  Two  or 
three  medical  books  treating  of  climate  and  diseases 
peculiar  to  California  have  been  published  in  this 
country  with  tolerable  success;  but  the  medical  man 
is  by  no  means  so  dependent  on  books  as  the  man  of 
law — that  is  to  say,  after  he  has  once  finished  his 
studies  and  is  established  in  practice.  His  is  a  pro 
fession  dependent  more  on  intuition  and  natural  in 
sight  into  character  and  causations,  and  above  all,  on 
a  thorough  understanding  of  the  case,  and  the  closest 
watchfulness  in  conducting  it  through  intricate  and 
ever-changing  complications.  Poetry  has  often  been 
essayed  in  California,  for  the  most  part  doggerel ;  yet 
should  Byron  come  here  and^  publish  for  the  first  time 
his  Cliilde  Harold,  it  would  not  find  buyers  enough  to 
pay  the  printer.  Even  Tuthill's  History  of  California, 
vigorously  offered  by  subscription,  did  not  return  the 
cost  of  plates,  paper,  press-work,  and  binding.  He  who 
dances  must  pay  the  fiddler.  Either  the  author  or  the 
publisher  must  make  up  his  mind  to  remunerate  the 
printer;  the  people  will  not  till  there  are  more  of  them, 
and  with  different  tastes. 

By  having  all  the  material  on  California  together, 
so  that  I  could  see  what  had  been  done,  I  was  enabled 
to  form  a  clearer  idea  of  what  might  be  done  in  the 
way  of  book-publishing  on  this  coast.  Accordingly  I 
requested  Mr  Knight  to  clear  the  shelves  around  his 
desk,  and  to  them  I  transferred  every  book  I  could 
find  in  my  stock  having  reference  to  this  country.  I 
succeeded  in  getting  together  some  fifty  or  seventy- 
five  volumes.  This  was  the  origin  of  my  library, 
sometimes  called  the  Pacific  Library,  but  latterly  the 
Bancroft  Library.  I  looked  at  the  volumes  thus 
brought  together,  and  remarked  to  Mr  Knight,  "That 
is  doing  very  well;  I  did  not  imagine  there  were  so 
many." 

I  thought  no  more  of  the  matter  till  some  time  after- 


FIRST  VISIT  TO  EUROPE.  177 

uable;  old,  rare,  and  valuable  books  would  increase 
rather  than  diminish  in  value,  and  as  I  came  upon 
them  from  time  to  time  I  thought  it  best  to  secure  all 
there  were  relating  to  this  coast.  After  all  the  cost 
in  money  was  not  much ;  it  was  the  time  that  counted ; 
and  the  time,  might  it  not  be  as  profitable  so  spent  as 
in  sipping  sugared  water  on  the  Paris  boulevard,  or 
other  of  the  insipid  sweets  of  fashionable  society  ?  It 
was  understood  from  the  first  that  nothing  in  my  col 
lection  was  for  sale;  sometime,  I  thought,  the  whole 
might  be  sold  to  a  library  or  public  institution;  but 
I  would  wait,  at  least,  until  the  collection  was  com 
plete. 

The  library  of  Richard  Heber,  the  great  English 
bibliomaniac,  who  died  in  1833,  consisting  of  about 
140,000  volumes,  cost  him,  when  rare  books  were  not 
half  so  expensive  as  now,  "over  $900,000,  or  say  seven 
dollars  a  volume,  equivalent  at  least  to  fifteen  dol 
lars  a  volume  at  the  present  time.  Two  hundred  and 
sixteen  days  were  occupied  in  the  sale,  by  auction,  of 
this  famous  collection  after  the  owner's  death.  And 
there  are  many  instances  where  collections  of  books 
have  brought  fair  prices.  The  directors  of  the  British 
Museum  gave  Lord  Elgin  £35,000  for  fragments  of 
the  Athenian  Parthenon,  collected  by  him  in  1802, 
worth  to  Great  Britain  not  a  tenth  part  of  what  the 
Bancroft  collection  is  worth  to  California.  And  yet 
I  well  knew  if  my  library  were  then  sold  it  would  not 
bring  its  cost,  however  it  might  increase  in  value  as 
the  years  went  by. 

I  had  now,  perhaps,  a  thousand  volumes,  and  began 
to  be  pretty  well  satisfied  with  my  efforts.  When, 
however,  in  1862  I  visited  London  and  Paris,  and 
rummaged  the  enormous  stocks  of  second-hand  books 
in  the  hundreds  of  stores  of  that  class,  my  eyes  began 
to  open.  I  had  much  more  yet  to  do.  And  so  it  was, 
when  the  collection  had  reached  one  thousand  volumes 
I  fancied  I  had  them  all;  when  it  had  grown  to  five 
thousand,  I  saw  it  was  but  begun.  As  my  time  was 

LIT.  IND.    12 


180  FROM  BIBLIOPOLIST  TO  BIBLIOPHILE. 

dictates.  Nearly  every  work  in  existence,  or  which 
was  referred  to  by  the  various  authorities,  I  found  on 
my  shelves.  And  this  was  the  result  of  my  method 
of  collecting,  which  was  to  buy  everything  I  could 
obtain,  with  the  view  of  winnowing  the  information 
at  my  leisure. 

Months  of  precious  time  I  might  easily  have  wasted 
to  save  a  few  dollars ;  and  even  then  there  would  have 
been  no  saving.  I  would  not  sell  to-day  out  of  the 
collection  the  most  worthless  volume  for  twice  its 
cost  in  money.  Every  production  of  every  brain  is 
worth  something,  if  only  to  illustrate  its  own  worth- 
lessness.  Every  thought  is  worth  to  me  in  money  the 
cost  of  transfixing  it.  Surely  I  might  give  the  cost 
for  what  the  greatest  fool  in  Christendom  should  take 
the  trouble  to  print  on  a  subject  under  consideration. 
As  La  Fontaine  says:  "  II  n'est  rien  d'inutile  aux 
personnes  de  sens."  Indeed  no  little  honor  should 
attach  to  such  distinguished  stupidity. 

A  book  is  the  cheapest  thing  in  the  world.  A 
common  laborer,  with  the  product  of  a  half  day's 
work,  may  become  possessor  of  the  choicest  fruits  of 
Shakespeare's  matchless  genius.  Long  years  of  prepa 
ration  are  followed  by  long  years  of  patient  study  and 
a  painful  bringing-forth,  and  the  results,  summed,  are 
sold  in  the  shops  for  a  few  shillings.  And  in  that  mul 
tiplication  of  copies  by  the  types,  which  secures  this 
cheapness,  there  is  no  diminution  of  individual  value. 
Intrinsically  and  practically  the  writings  of  Plato, 
which  I  can  buy  for  five  dollars,  are  worth  as  much 
to  me,  will  improve  my  mind  as  much,  as  if  mine  was 
the  only  copy  in  existence.  Ay,  they  are  worth  in 
finitely  more ;  for  if  Plato  had  but  one  reader  on  this 
planet,  it  were  as  well  for  that  reader  he  had  none. 

Gradually  and  almost  imperceptibly  had  the  area 
of  my  efforts  enlarged.  From  Oregon  it  was  but  a 
step  to  British  Columbia  and  Alaska;  and  as  I  was 
obliged  for  California  to  go  to  Mexico  and  Spain,  it 
finally  became  settled  to  my  mind  to  make  the  west- 


184  FROM  BIBLIOPOLIST  TO  BIBLIOPHILE. 

ness.     As  to  a  knowledge  of  books  and  booksellers' 
shops  in  those  places,  there  are  but  few  pretensions. 

Opening  on  the  main  plaza  of  Burgos,  which  was 
filled  with  some  of  the  most  miserable  specimens 
of  muffled  humanity  I  ever  encountered— cutthroat, 
villainous-looking  men  and  women  in  robes  of  sewed 
rags — were  two  small  shops,  in  which  not  only  books 
and  newspapers  were  sold,  but  traps  and  trinkets  of 
various  kinds.  There  I  found  a  few  pamphlets  which 
spoke  of  Mexico.  Passing  through  a  Californian- 
looking  country  we  entered  Madrid,  the  town  of 
tobacco  and  bull-fights.  If  book-selling  houses  are 
significant  of  the  intelligence  of  the  people — and  we 
in  California,  who  boast  the  finest  establishments  of 
the  kind  in  the  world  according  to  our  population, 
claim  that  they  are — then  culture  in  Spain  is  at  a 
low  ebb. 

The  first  three  days  in  Madrid  I  spent  in  collecting 
and  studying  catalogues.  Of  these  I  found  but  few, 
and  they  were  all  similar,  containing  about  the  same 
class  of  works.  Then  I  searched  the  stalls  and  stores, 
and  gathered  more  than  at  one  time  I  thought  I 
should  be  able  to,  sufficient  to  fill  two  large  boxes; 
but  to  accomplish  this  I  was  obliged  to  work  dili 
gently  for  two  weeks. 

To  Saragossa,  Barcelona,  Marseilles,  Nice,  Genoa, 
Bologna,  Florence,  and  Rome;  then  to  Naples,  back 
to  Venice,  and  through  Switzerland  to  Paris.  After 
resting  a  while  I  went  to  Holland,  then  up  the  Rhine 
and  through  Germany  to  Vienna;  then  through  Ger 
many  and  Switzerland  again,  Paris  and  London,  and 
finally  back  to  New  York  and  Buffalo.  Everywhere 
I  found  something,  and  seized  upon  it,  however  in 
significant,  for  I  had  long  since  ceased  to  resist  the 
malady.  Often  have  I  taken  a  cab  or  a  carriage  to 
drive  me  from  stall  to  stall  all  day,  without  obtaining 
more  than  perhaps  three  or  four  books  or  pamphlets, 
for  which  I  paid  a  shilling  or  a  franc  each.  Then 
again  I  would  light  upon  a  valuable  manuscript  which 


MEXICAN  BOOKS.  185 

relieved  my  pocket  to  the  extent  of  three,  five,  or 
eight  hundred  dollars. 

Now,  I  thought,  my  task  is  done.  I  have  rifled 
America  of  its  treasures;  Europe  have  I  ransacked; 
and  after  my  success  in  Spain,  Asia  and  Africa  may 
as  well  be  passed  by.  I  have  ten  thousand  volumes 
and  over,  fifty  times  more  than  ever  I  dreamed  were 
in  existence  when  the  collecting  began.  My  library 
is  a,  fait  accompli.  Finis  coronat  opus.  Here  will  I 
rest. 

But  softly!  What  is  this  inch-thick  pamphlet  that 
comes  to  me  by  mail  from  my  agent  in  London?  By 
the  shade  of  Tom  Dibdin  it  is  a  catalogue !  Stripping 
off  the  cover  I  read  the  title-page:  Catalogue  de  la 
Riche  Bibliotheque  de  D.  Jose  Maria  Andrade.  Livres 
manuscrits  et  imprimes.  Litterature  Frangaise  et 
Espagnole.  Histoire  de  EAfrique,  de  LAsier  et  de 
LAmerique.  7000  pieces  et  volumes  ayant  rapport  au 
Mexique  ou  imprimes  dans  ce  pays.  Dont  la  vente  se 
fera  Lundi  18  Janvier  1869  et  jours  suivants,  a  Leip 
zig,  dans  la  salle  de  ventes  de  MM.  List  &  Francke,  15 
rue  de  L  Universite,  par  le  ministere  de  M.  Hermann 
Franclce,  commissaire  priseur. 

Seven  thousand  books  direct  from  Mexico,  and 
probably  half  of  them  works  which  should  be  added 
to  my  collection!  What  was  to  be  done?  Here  were 
treasures  beside  which  the  gold,  silver,  and  rich  mer 
chandise  found  by  Ali  Baba  in  the  robbers'  cave  were 
dross.  A  new  light  broke  in  upon  me.  I  had  never 
considered  that  Mexico  had  been  printing  books  for 
three  and  a  quarter  centuries — one  hundred  years 
longer  than  Massachusetts — and  that  the  earlier 
works  were  seldom  seen  floating  about  book-stalls  and 
auction-rooms.  One  would  think,  perhaps,  that  in 
Mexico  there  might  be  a  rich  harvest;  that  where 
the  people  were  ignorant  and  indifferent  to  learning, 
books  would  be  lightly  esteemed,  and  a  large  collection 
easily  made.  And  such  at  times  and  to  some  extent 


186  FROM  BIBLIOPOLIST  TO  BIBLIOPHILE. 

has  been  the  fact,  but  it  is  not  so  now.  It  is  charac 
teristic  of  the  Mexican,  to  say  nothing  of  the  Yankee, 
that  an  article  which  may  be  deemed  worthless  until 
one  tries  to  buy  it,  suddenly  assumes  great  value. 
The  common  people,  seeing  the  priests  and  collectors 
place  so  high  an  estimate  on  these  embodiments  of 
knowledge,  invest  them  with  a  sort  of  supernatural 
importance,  place  them  among  their  lares  and  penates, 
and  refuse  to  part  with  them  at  any  price.  Besides, 
Mexico  as  well  as  other  countries  has  been  overrun 
by  book  collectors.  In  making  this  collection  Senor 
Andrade  had  occupied  forty  years;  and  being  upon 
the  spot,  with  every  facility,  ample  means  at  his 
command,  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  literature  of 
the  country,  and  familiarity  with  the  places  in  which 
books  and  manuscripts  were  most  likely  to  be  found, 
he  surely  should  have  been  able  to  accomplish  what 
no  other  man  could. 

And  then  again,  rare  books  are  every  year  becoming 
rarer.  In  England  particularly  this  is  the  case.  Im 
portant  sales  are  not  so  frequent  now  as  fifty  years 
ago,  when  a  gentleman's  library,  which  at  his  death 
was  sold  at  auction  for  the  benefit  of  heirs,  almost 
always  offered  opportunities  for  securing  some  rare 
books.  Then,  at  the  death  of  one,  another  would  add 
to  his  collection,  and  at  his  death  another,  and  so 
on.  During  the  past  half  century  many  new  public 
libraries  have  been  formed  both  in  Europe  and  Amer 
ica,  until  the  number  has  become  very  large.  These, 
as  a  rule,  are  deficient  in  rare  books;  but  having  with 
age  and  experience  accumulated  funds  and  the  knowl 
edge  of  using  them,  or  having  secured  all  desirable 
current  literature,  the  managers  of  public  libraries 
are  more  and  more  desirous  of  enriching  their  collec 
tions  with  the  treasures  of  the  past;  and  as  institu 
tions  seldom  or  never  die,  when  once  a  book  finds 
lodgment  on  their  shelves  the  auctioneer  rarely  sees 
it  again.  Scores  of  libraries  in  America  have  their 
agents,  with  lists  of  needed  books  in  their  hands, 


THE  SQUIEH  COLLECTION.  193 

logues,  as  did  also  John  Russell  Smith  of  London; 
F.  A.  Brockhaus  of  Leipsic;  Murgula  of  Mexico, 
and  Madrilena  of  Mexico;  Muller  of  Amsterdam; 
Weigel  of  Leipsic ;  Robert  Clarke  &  Co.  of  Cincinnati ; 
Scheible  of  Stuttgart ;  Bouton  of  New  York ;  Henry 
Miller  of  New  York,  and  Olivier  of  Bruxelles.  Henry 
Stevens  of  London  sold  in  Boston,  through  Leonard, 
by  auction  in  April,  1870,  a  collection  of  five  thousand 
volumes  of  American  history,  which  he  catalogued 
under  the  title  of  Bibliotlieca  Historica,  at  which  time 
he  claimed  to  have  fifteen  thousand  similar  volumes 
stored  at  4  Trafalgar  square. 

In  April,  1876,  was  sold  by  auction  in  New  York 
the  collection  of  Mr  E.  G.  Squier,  relating  in  a  great 
measure  to  Central  America,  where  the  collector, 
when  quite  young,  was  for  a  time  United  States 
minister.  Being  a  man  of  letters,  the  author  of  sev 
eral  books,  and  many  essays  and  articles  on  ethnology, 
history,  and  politics,  and  a  member  of  home  and 
foreign  learned  societies,  Mr  Squier  was  enabled  by 
his  position  to  gratify  his  tastes  to  their  full  extent, 
and  he  availed  himself  of  the  opportunities.  His 
library  was  rich  in  manuscripts,  in  printed  and  manu 
script  maps,  and  in  Central  American  newspapers,  and 
political  and  historical  pamphlets.  There  were  some 
fine  original  drawings  by  Catherwood  of  ruins  and 
monolith  idols,  and  some  desirable  engravings  and 
photographs.  Books  from  the  library  of  Alexander 
Von  Humboldt  were  a  feature,  and  there  was  a 
section  on  Scandinavian  literature.  In  regard  to 
his  manuscripts,  which  he  intended  to  translate  and 
print,  the  publication  of  Palacio,  Cartas,  being  the 
beginning,  Mr  Squier  said :  "  A  large  part  of 
these  were  obtained  from  the  various  Spanish  ar 
chives  and  depositories  by  my  friend  Buckingham 
Smith,  late  secretary  of  the  legation  of  the  United 
States  in  Spain.  Others  were  procured  during  my 
residence  in  Central  America  either  in  person  or 
through  the  intervention  of  friends."  I  gladly  availed 

LIT.  IND.    13 


194  FROM  BIBLIOPOLIST  TO  BIBLIOPHILE. 

myself  of  the  opportunity  to  purchase  at  this  sale 
whatever  the  collection  contained  and  my  library 
lacked.  Of  Mr  Squier's  library  Mr  Sabin  testified: 
"In  the  department  relative  to  Central  America  the 
collection  is  not  surpassed  by  any  other  within  our 
knowledge;  many  of  these  books  being  published  in 
Central  America,  and  having  rarely  left  the  land  of 
their  birth,  are  of  great  value,  and  are  almost  unknown 
outside  the  localities  from  which  they  were  issued." 

The  next  most  important  opportunity  was  the  sale, 
by  auction,  of  the  library  of  Caleb  Gushing  in  Boston, 
in  October,  1879.  This  sale  was  attended  for  me  by  Mr 
Lauriat,  and  the  result  was  in  every  way  satisfactory. 

Quite  a  remarkable  sale  was  that  of  the  library  of 
Ramirez,  by  auction,  in  London  in  July  1880,  not  so 
much  in  regard  to  numbers,  for  there  were  but  1290,  as 
in  variety  and  prices.  The  title  of  the  catalogue  reads 
as  follows :  Bibliotheca  Mexicana.  A  catalogue  of  the 
Library  of  rare  books  and  important  manuscripts,  re 
lating  to  Mexico  and  other  parts  of  Spanish  America, 
formed  by  the  late  Senor  Don  Jose  Fernando  Ramirez, 
president  of  the  late  Emperor  Maximilian  s  first  min 
istry,  comprising  fine  specimens  of  the  presses  of  the 
early  Mexican  typographers  Juan  Cromberger,  Juan 
Pablos,  Antonio  Espinosa,  Pedro  Ocharte,  Pedro  Balli, 
Antonio  Ricardo,  Melchior  Ocharte;  a  large  number  of 
works,  both  printed  and  manuscript,  on  the  Mexican 
Indian  languages  and  dialects;  the  civil  and  ecclesi 
astical  history  of  Mexico  and  its  provinces;  collections 
of  laws  and  ordinances  relating  to  the  Indies.  Valuable 
unpublished  manuscripts  relating  to  the  Jesuit  missions 
in  Texas,  California,  Cliina,  Peru,  Chili,  Brasil,  etc.; 
collections  of  documents;  sermons  preached  in  Mexico; 
etc.,  etc.  Ramirez  was  a  native  of  the  city  of  Du- 
rango,  where  he  had  been  educated  and  admitted  to 
the  bar,  rising  to  eminence  as  state  and  federal  judge. 
He  was  at  one  time  head  of  the  national  museum  of 
Mexico;  also  minister  of  foreign  affairs,  and  again 
president  of  Maximilian's  first  ministry.  Upon  the 


THE  RAMIREZ  SALE.  195 

retirement  of  the  French  expedition  from  Mexico 
Senor  Ramirez  went  to  Europe  and  took  up  his  resi 
dence  at  Bonn,  where  he  died  in  1871.  The  books 
comprising  the  sale  formed  the  second  collection  made 
by  this  learned  bibliographer,  the  first  having  been 
sold  to  become  the  foundation  of  a  state  library  in  the 
city  of  Durango.  The  rarest  works  of  the  first  col 
lection  were  reserved,  however,  to  form  the  nucleus  of 
the  second,  which  was  formed  after  he  removed  to  the 
capital;  his  high  public  position,  his  reputation  as 
scholar  and  bibliographer,  and  his  widely  extended 
influence  affording  him  the  best  facilities.  Many  of 
his  literary  treasures  were  obtained  from  the  convents 
after  the  suppression  of  the  monastic  orders.  From 
the  collection,  as  it  stood  at  the  death  of  Ramirez, 
his  heirs  permitted  A.  Chavero  to  select  all  works 
relating  to  Mexico.  "We  believe  we  do  not  exag 
gerate,"  the  sellers  affirmed,  "when  we  say  that  no 
similar  collection  of  books  can  again  be  brought  into 
the  English  market."  Writing  me  in  1869  regard 
ing  the  Paris  and  London  sales  of  that  year,  Mr 
Whitaker  says:  "If  I  may  argue  from  analogy,  I  do 
not  think  that  many  more  Mexican  books  will  come 
to  Europe  for  sale.  I  remember  some  twenty-five 
years  ago  a  similar  series  of  sales  of  Spanish  books 
which  came  over  here  in  consequence  of  the  revolu 
tion,  but  for  many  years  there  have  been  none  to 
speak  of."  Thus  we  find  the  same  idea  expressed  by 
an  expert  eleven  years  before  the  Ramirez  sale.  In 
one  sense  both  opinions  proved  true;  the  collections 
were  different  in  character,  and  neither  of  them  could 
be  even  approximately  duplicated.  With  regard  to 
prices  at  the  respective  sales  of  1869  Mr  Whitaker 
remarks:  "Some  of  the  books  sold  rather  low  con 
sidering  their  rarity  and  value,  but  on  the  whole  prices 
ruled  exceedingly  high."  Had  Mr  Whitaker  attended 
the  Ramirez  sale  he  would  have  been  simply  astounded. 
If  ever  the  prices  of  Mexican  books  sold  prior  to 
this  memorable  year  of  1880  could  in  comparison  be 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  LIBRARY. 

Could  a  man  be  secure 

That  his  days  would  endure 

As  of  old,  for  a  thousand  long  years, 

What  things  might  he  know! 

What  deeds  might  he  do! 

And  all  without  hurry  or  care. 

Old  Song. 

IF  as  Plato  says  knowledge  is  goodness,  and  good 
ness  God,  then  libraries  occupy  holy  ground,  and 
books  breathe  the  atmosphere  of  heaven.  Although 
this  philosophy  may  be  too  transcendental  for  the 
present  day,  and  although  the  agency  of  evil  some 
times  appears  in  the  accumulation  of  knowledge  as 
well  as  the  agency  of  good,  thus  making  scholars  not 
always  heirs  of  God,  we  have  yet  to  learn  of  a  collec 
tion  of  books  having  been  made  for  purposes  of  evil, 
or  the  results  of  such  efforts  ever  having  been  other 
wise  than  beneficial  to  the  race.  Particularly  is  such 
the  case  where  the  main  incentive  has  been  the  accu 
mulation  of  facts  for  the  mere  love  of  such  accumu 
lation,  and  not  from  devotion  to  dogma,  or  for  the 
purpose  of  pleading  a  cause — for  something  of  the 
instinct  of  accumulation  inherent  in  humanity  may 
be  found  in  the  garnering  of  knowledge,  no  less  than 
in  the  gathering  of  gold  or  the  acquisition  of  broad 
acres. 

My  library,  when  first  it  came  to  be  called  a 
library,  occupied  one  corner  of  the  second  story  of 
the  bookstore  building  on  Merchant  street,  which  con 
nected  with  the  front  room  on  Montgomery  street,  as 

(198) 


LIBRARY  SITE  SELECTED.  201 

to  sell  my  residence  property  in  that  locality,  so  that 
it  was  now  necessary  to  select  another  spot.  In 
making  such  selection  I  could  not  take  as  fully  into 
the  account  as  I  would  have  liked  the  influence 
of  a  library  upon  its  locality.  For  example,  who 
shall  say  what  might  or  might  not  be  the  effects  upon 
the  graduating  members  of  a  great  institution  of  learn 
ing,  or  upon  the  assembled  law-makers  for  the  nation, 
or  upon  that  class  of  wealthy  and  intelligent  inhabi 
tants  of  the  commercial  metropolis  who  delight  in 
scientific  or  historic  association  for  the  p'ood  of  their 

O 

country  ?  We  cannot  set  up  in  our  midst  a  theatre, 
hotel,  race-course,  church,  or  drinking-saloon  without 
the  whole  community  being  affected  thereby.  A 
library  is  not  merely  a  depository  of  learning,  but  a 
society  for  the  promotion  of  knowledge  in  whatsoever 
direction  its  contents  tends.  If  it  be  a  library  of  law, 
medicine,  or  theology,  the  corresponding  profession  is 
affected  by  it  in  a  degree  greater  than  we  realize ;  if 
it  be  a  library  of  history,  then  sooner  or  later  its  in 
fluence  is  felt  in  the  direction  of  historical  investiga 
tion  and  elucidation.  The  very  fact  of  its  existence 
presupposes  somewhere  a  demand  for  its  existence, 
and  this  not  without  cause  or  reason — the  cause  or 
reason  being  its  use  for  the  purposes  for  which  it  was 
created ;  that  is  to  say,  for  the  protection  and  promul 
gation  of  historical  data.  The  effect  of  an  abundance 
of  rich  historical  data  on  a  local  historical  society  is 
much  greater  than  the  effect  of  the  society  on  the 
collecting  of  data.  With  the  data  at  hand,  members 
will  set  themselves  at  work;  while  if  it  be  absent 
they  will  not  seek  it. 

After  some  search  a  place  was  found  uniting  several 
advantages,  and  which  on  the  whole  proved  satisfac 
tory.  It  was  on  Valencia  street,  the  natural  continua 
tion  of  Market  street,  on  the  line  of  the  city's  growth, 
and  reached  by  the  cars  from  the  ferry  which  passed 
the  store.  There,  on  the  west  side,  near  its  junction 
with  Mission  street,  I  purchased  a  lot  one  hundred  and 


202  THE  LIBRARY. 

twenty  by  one  hundred  and  twenty-six  feet  in  size, 
and  proceeded  forthwith  to  erect  a  substantial  two 
story  and  basement  brick  building,  forty  by  sixty  feet. 
In  order  that  the  building  might  be  always  detached 
it  was  placed  in  the  centre  of  the  lot,  and  to  make  it 
more  secure  from  fire  all  the  openings  were  covered 
with  iron.  A  high  fence  was  erected  on  two  sides 
for  protection  against  the  wind,  and  the  grounds  were 
filled  with  trees,  grass,  and  flowers,  making  the  place 
a  little  Eden.  On  the  glass  over  the  entrance  was 

E laced  the  number,   1538,  and  on  the  door  a  plate 
ottered  in  plain  script,  THE  BANCROFT  LIBRARY. 

The  building  proved  most  satisfactory.  No  attempt 
was  made  at  elaboration,  either  without  or  within; 
plain  neat  good  taste,  with  comfort  and  convenience, 
was  alone  aimed  at.  Every  part  of  it  was  ordered 
with  an  eye  single  to  the  purpose;  the  rooms  are 
spacious,  there  are  plenty  of  large  windows,  and  the 
building  is  well  ventilated.  From  the  front  door  the 
main  room,  lower  floor,  is  entered,  which,  though 
almost  without  a  break  in  its  original  construction, 
became  at  once  so  crowded  as  to  render  its  proper 
representation  in  a  drawing  impossible.  Ample  space, 
as  was  supposed,  had  been  allowed  in  planning  the 
building,  but  such  a  collection  of  books  is  susceptible 
of  being  expanded  or  contracted  to  a  wonderful  extent. 
On  the  wall  shelves  of  this  apartment  are  placed  for 
the  most  part  sets  and  various  collections  aggre 
gating  16,000  volumes.  These  sets  are  conveniently 
lettered  and  numbered,  in  a  manner  that  renders  each 
work  readily  accessible,  as  will  be  described  in  detail 
elsewhere.  They  consist  of  large  collections  of  voy 
ages  and  travels ;  of  documents,  periodicals,  legislative 
and  other  public  papers  of  the  federal  government 
and  the  several  states  and  territories  of  the  Pacific 
slope;  of  laws,  briefs,  arid  legal  reports;  series  of 
scrap-books,  almanacs,  directories,  bound  collections 
of  pamphlets,  cumbersome  folios,  Mexican  sermons,, 
papeles  variosy  and  other  miscellaneous  matter.  Three 


VALENCIA  STREET  BUILDING.  203 

lofty  double  tiers  of  shelving,  extending  across  the 
room  from  north  to  south,  are  loaded  with  500  bulky 
files  of  Pacific  States  newspapers,  amounting,  if  a 
year  of  weeklies  and  three  months  of  dailies  be  ac 
counted  a  volume,  to  over  5000  volumes.  It  is  a 
somewhat  unwieldy  mass,  but  indispensable  to  the 
local  historian.  Also  was  built  and  placed  here  a  huge 
case,  with  drawers  for  maps,  geographically  arranged ; 
also  cases  containing  the  card  index,  and  paper  bags  of 
notes,  a]l  of  which  are  explained  elsewhere. 

To  the  room  above,  the  main  library  and  working- 
room,  the  entrance  is  by  a  staircase  rising  from  the 
middle  of  the  first  floor.  Here,  seated  at  tables, 
are  a  dozen  literary  workmen,  each  busy  with  his 
special  task.  The  walls  are  filled  with  shelving  nine 
tiers  high,  containing  four  classes  of  books.  Most  of 
the  space  is  occupied  by  works  of  the  first  class,  the 
working  library  proper  of  printed  books,  alphabeti 
cally  arranged,  each  volume  bearing  a  number,  and 
the  numbers  running  consecutively  from  one  to  12,000 
under  alphabetical  arrangement,  and  afterward  with 
out  arrangement,  as  additions  are  made  indefinitely. 
The  second  class  consists  of  rare  books,  of  about  400 
volumes,  set  apart  by  reason  of  their  great  value,  not 
merely  pecuniary,  though  the  volumes  will  bring  from 
$35  to  $800  each  in  the  book  markets  of  the  world, 
but  literary  value,  representing  standard  authorities, 
bibliographic  curiosities,  specimens  of  early  printing, 
and  rare  linguistics.  The  third  class  is  composed  en 
tirely  of  manuscripts,  in  1200  volumes  of  three  sub 
divisions,  relating  respectively  to  Mexico  and  Central 
America,  to  California,  and  to  the  Northwest  Coast— 
the  Oregon  and  interior  territory,  British  Columbia, 
and  Alaska.  The  fourth  class  is  made  up  of  450 
works  of  reference  and  bibliographies.  When  the 
collection  was  placed  in  the  library  building  it  num 
bered  35,000  volumes,  since  which  time  additions  have 
steadily  been  made,  until  the  number  now  approaches 
50,000.  At  the  east  end  of  the  upper  room  is  situated 


212  THE  LIBRARY. 

A  collection  of  books,  like  everything  else,  has  its 
history  arid  individuality.  Particularly  is  this  the 
case  in  regard  to  collections  limited  to  a  special  sub 
ject,  time,  or  territory.  Such  collections  are  the  re 
sult  of  birth  and  growth;  they  are  not  found  in  the 
market  for  sale,  ready  made ;  there  must  have  been 
sometime  the  engendering  idea,  followed  by  a  long 
natural  development. 

From  the  ordinary  point  of  view  there  is  nothing 
remarkable  in  gathering  50,000  volumes  and  provid 
ing  a  building  for  their  reception.  There  are  many 
libraries  larger  than  this,  some  of  them  having  been 
founded  and  carried  forward  by  an  individual,  with 
out  government  or  other  aid,  who  likewise  erected  a 
building  for  his  books.  Nevertheless,  there  are  some 
remarkable  features  about  this  collection,  some  im 
portant  points  in  connection  therewith,  which  cannot 
be  found  elsewhere. 

First,  as  an  historical  library  it  stands  apart  from 
any  other,  being  the  largest  collection  in  the  world  of 
books,  maps,  and  manuscripts  relating  to  a  special 
territory,  time,  or  subject.  There  are  larger  masses 
of  historical  data  lodged  in  certain  archives  or  libra 
ries,  but  they  are  more  general,  or  perhaps  universal, 
relating  to  all  lands  and  peoples,  and  not  to  so  limited 
an  area  of  the  earth.  And  when  the  further  facts 
are  considered,  how  recently  this  country  was  settled, 
and  how  thinly  peopled  it  now  is  as  compared  with 
what  it  will  be  some  day,  the  difference  is  still  more 
apparent. 

Secondly,  it  gives  to  each  section  of  the  area  cov 
ered  more  full,  complete,  and  accurate  data  concern 
ing  its  early  history  than  any  state  or  nation  in  the 
civilized  world,  outside  of  this  territory,  has  or  ever 
can  have.  This  is  a  stupendous  fact,  which  will  find 
its  way  into  the  minds  of  men  in  due  time.  I  repeat 
it:  so  long  as  this  collection  is  kept  intact,  and 
neither  burned  nor  scattered,  California,  Oregon,  and 
the  rest  of  these  Pacific  commonwealths  may  find 


COMPARATIVE  ANALYSIS.  213 

here  fuller  material  regarding  their  early  history  than 
Massachusetts,  New  York,  or  any  other  American 
state,  than  England,  Germany,  Italy,  or  any  other 
European  nation.  The  reason  is  obvious:  they  lost 
their  opportunity;  not  one  of  them  can  raise  the  dead 
or  gather  from  oblivion. 

Third,  it  has  been  put  to  a  more  systematic  and 
practical  use  than  any  other  historical  library  in  the 
world.  I  have  never  heard  of  any  considerable  collec 
tion  being  indexed  according  to  the  subject-matter 
contained  in  each  volume,  as  has  been  the  case  here; 
or  of  such  a  mass  of  crude  historic  matter  being  ever 
before  worked  over,  winnowed,  and  the  parts  worth 
preserving  written  out  and  printed  for  general  use,  as 
has  been  done  in  this  instance. 

Says  an  eminent  writer:  "Respecting  Mr  Ban 
croft's  Pacific  Library  as  a  storehouse  of  historic  data, 
pertaining  to  this  broad  and  new  western  land,  but 
one  opinion  has  been  expressed  during  the  twenty 
years  that  the  existence  of  such  an  institution  has 
been  known  to  the  world.  In  all  that  has  been  said 
or  written,  at  home  or  abroad,  by  friend  or  foe,  by 
admirers,  indifferent  observers,  conservative  critics, 
or  hypercritical  fault-finders,  there  has  been  entire 
unanimity  of  praise  of  the  library  as  a  collection  of 
historic  data.  Disinterested  and  impartial  visitors, 
after  a  personal  inspection,  have  invariably  shown  a 
degree  of  admiration  far  exceeding  that  of  the  warm 
est  friends  who  knew  the  library  only  from  descrip 
tion.  The  praise  of  those  who  might  be  supposed  to 
be  influenced  to  some  extent  by  local  pride  has  never 
equalled  that  of  prominent  scholars  from  the  east 
and  Europe. 

"  There  is  no  American  collection  with  which  this 
can  fairly  be  compared.  There  are  other  large  and 
costly  private  libraries ;  but  the  scope,  plan,  and  pur 
pose  of  the  Bancroft  Library  place  it  beyond  the  pos 
sibility  of  comparison.  It  is  made  up  exclusively  of 
printed  and  manuscript  matter  pertaining  to  the 


214  THE  LIBRARY. 

Pacific  States,  from  Alaska  to  Panama*.  To  say  that 
it  is  superior  to  any  other  in  its  own  field  goes  for 
little,  because  there  are  no  others  of  any  great  mag 
nitude;  but  when  we  can  state  truthfully  that  nowhere 
in  the  world  is  there  a  similar  collection  equal  to  it,  the 
assertion  means  something.  And  not  only  does  this 
collection  thus  excel  all  others  as  a  whole,  but  a  like 
excellence  is  apparent  for  each  of  its  parts.  In  it 
may  be  found,  for  instance,  a  better  library  of  Mexi 
can  works,  of  Central  American  works,  of  Pacific 
United  States  works,  than  elsewhere  exists.  And  to  go 
further,  it  may  be  said  to  contain  a  more  perfect 
collection  on  Alaska,  on  New  Mexico,  on  Texas,  on 
Colorado,  on  Utah,  on  Costa  Rica,  and  the  other 
individual  states  or  governments  than  can  be  found 
outside  its  walls.  Not  only  this,  but  in  several  cases, 
notably  that  of  California,  this  library  is  regarded  as 
incomparably  superior  to  any  state  collection  existing, 
or  that  could  at  this  date  be  formed  in  all  the  United 
States  or  Europe. 

''There  is  no  other  state  or  country  whose  historic 
data  have  been  so  thoroughly  collected  at  so  early  a 
period  of  its  existence,  especially  none  whose  existence 
has  been  so  varied  and  eventful,  and  its  record  so  com 
plicated  and  perishable.  Mr  Bancroft  has  attempted, 
and  successfully  as  is  believed,  to  do  for  his  country 
a  work  which  in  the  ordinary  course  of  events  would 
have  been  left  for  a  succession  of  historical  societies 
and  specialists  to  do  in  a  later  generation,  after  the 
largest  part  of  the  material  had  been  lost,  and  the  ac 
complishment  of  the  purpose  would  be  absolutely 
impossible.  Then,  too,  from  such  work  the  resulting 
stores  of  data,  besides  their  comparative  paucity, 
would  be  scattered,  and  not  accessible  as  a  whole  to 
any  single  investigator.  The  advantage  of  having 
such  historic  treasures  in  one  place  rather  than  in 
many  is  almost  as  obvious  as  that  of  preventing  the 
loss  of  valuable  material." 

In  this  connection  it  is  worthy  of  our  serious  con- 


CHAPTER  IX. 

DESPERATE  ATTEMPTS  "AT  GREAT  THINGS. 

Some  have  been  seene  to  bite  their  pen,  scratch  their  head,  bend  their 
browes,  bite  their  lips,  beat  the  boord,  teare  their  paper,  when  they  were 
faire  for  somewhat,  and  caught  nothing  therein., 

Camden. 

HEAPS  and  heaps  of  diamonds  and — sawdust !  Good 
gold  and  genuine  silver,  pearls  and  oyster-shells,  cop 
per  and  iron  mixed  with  refuse  and  debris — such  was 
the  nature  and  condition  of  my  collection  in  1869, 
before  any  considerable  labor  had  been  bestowed  upon 
it.  Surrounded  by  these  accumulations,  I  sat  in  an 
embarrassment  of  wealth.  Chaff  and  wheat;  wheat, 
straw,  and  dirt;  where  was  the  brain  or  the  score 
of  brains  to  do  this  winnowing? 

What  winnowing?  I  never  promised  myself  or 
any  one  to  do  more  than  to  gather;  never  promised 
even  that,  and  probably,  had  I  known  in  the  begin 
ning  what  was  before  me,  I  never  should  have  under 
taken  it.  Was  it  not  enough  to  mine  for  the  precious 
metal  without  having  to  attempt  the  more  delicate 
and  difficult  task  of  melting  down  the  mass  and  re 
fining  it,  when  I  knew  nothing  of  such  chemistry? 
But  I  could  at  least  arrange  my  accumulations  in 
some  kind  of  order,  and  even  dignify  them  by  the 
name  of  library. 

During  my  last  visit  abroad  Mr  Knight  had  been 
clipping  in  a  desultory  manner  from  Pacific  coast 
journals,  and  classifying  the  results  under  numerous 
headings  in  scrap-books  and  boxes;  and  I  had  also  at 
that  time  an  arrangement  with  the  literary  editor  of 

[218] 


ADVENTURES  OF  BOSQUETTI.  221 

himself,  for  what  his  coadjutor  had  written  was  of 
little  practical  benefit. 

The  flight  of  Bosquetti  was  in  this  wise:  First  I 
sent  him  to  Sacramento  to  make  a  list  of  such  books 
on  California  as  were  in  the  state  library.  This  he 
accomplished  to  my  satisfaction.  On  his  return, 
having  heard  of  some  valuable  material  at  Santa  Clara 
college,  I  sent  him  down  to  copy  it.  A  month  passed, 
during  which  time  he  wrote  me  regularly,  reporting 
his  doings,  what  -the  material  consisted  of,  what  the 
priests  said  to  him,  and  how  he  was  progressing  in 
his  labors.  He  drew  his  pay  religiously,  the  money 
both  for  salary  and  expenses  being  promptly  sent 
him.  It  did  not  occur  to  me  that  there  was  anything 
wrong.  He  had  been  with  me  now  for  several 
months  and  I  had  never  had  cause  to  distrust  him, 
until  one  day  the  proprietor  of  the  hotel  at  which  he 
lodged  wrote  me,  saying  that  he  understood  the  gen 
tleman  to  be  in  my  service,  and  he  thought  it  but 
right  to  inform  me  that  since  he  came  to  his  house 
he  had  been  most  of  the  time  in  a  state  of  beastly 
intoxication  and  had  not  done  a  particle  of  work. 
When  his  bottle  became  low  he  would  sober  up  enough 
to  make  a  visit  to  the  college,  write  me  a  letter, 
receive  his  pay,  and  buy  more  liquor. 

In  some  way  Bosquetti,  learned  that  I  had  been 
informed  of  his  conduct,  and  not  choosing  to  wait  for 
my  benediction,  he  wrote  me  a  penitent  letter  and 
turned  his  face  southward,  seemingly  desirous  above 
all  to  widen  the  distance  between  us.  I  was  satisfied 
to  be  rid  of  him  at  the  cost  of  a  few  hundred  dollars. 

Oak  was  thus  left  in  sole  charge  of  the  literary 
accumulations,  of  which  he  was  duly  installed  libra 
rian.  When  the  card  copying  was  nearly  completed 
the  books  were  alphabetically  arranged,  tied  up  in 
packages,  and  placed  in  one  hundred  and  twenty-one 
large  cases,  in  which  shape,  in  May,  1870,  they  were 
transferred  to  the  fifth  floor  of  the  new  and  yet  un 
finished  building  on  Market  street.  After  superin- 


CHAPTER  X. 

A    LITERARY    WORKSHOP. 

We  were  the  first  that  ever  burst 
Into  that  silent  sea. 

Coleridge. 

IT  was  the  20th  of  August,  1871,  that  I  returned 
from  my  eastern  trip,  being  summoned  to  the  sup 
port  of  a  greatly  imperiled  business.  My  friends 
had  become  fearful  for  the  safety  of  the  firm,  and 
had  telegraphed  me  to  return.  Wicked  reports  of 
things  undreamed  of  by  ourselves  had  been  so  long 
and  so  persistently  circulated  by  certain  of  our  com 
petitors,  who  feared  and  hated  us,  that  the  confidence 
of  even  those  slow  to  believe  ill  of  us  began  to  be 
shaken.  No  Achilles  was  near  to  smite  to  earth  those 
sons  of  Thersites. 

The  fact  of  my  changing  the  name  of  the  firm,  the 
reason  for  which  I  had  some  delicacy  about  loudly 
proclaiming,  was  perverted  by  our  enemies  into  a  fear 
as  to  the  ultimate  success  of  the  business,  and  a  deter 
mination  on  my  part  in  case  of  failure  not  to  be  brought 
down  with  it.  And  this,  notwithstanding  they  knew, 
or  might  have  known,  that  I  never  shirked  any  part 
of  the  responsibility  connected  with  the  change  of 
name,  and  that  every  dollar  I  had  was  pledged  for  the 
support  of  the  business.  To  their  great  disappoint 
ment  we  did  not  succumb ;  we  did  not  ask  for  an  exten 
sion,  or  any  favors  from  any  one.  Nevertheless  my 
friends  desired  me  to  return,  and  I  came. 

But  I  was  in  a  bad  humor  for  business.  I  never 
thought  it  possible  so  to  hate  it,  and  all  the  belittlings 

(230) 


238  'A  LITERARY   WORKSHIP. 

plication;  likewise  her  physical  endurance  was  re 
markable. 

Long  before  this  I  had  discovered  the  plan  of  the 
index  then  in  progress  to  be  impracticable.  It  was 
too  exact;  it  was  on  too  minute  a  scale.  Besides 
absorbing  an  enormous  amount  of  time  and  money  in 
its  making,  when  completed  it  would  be  so  volumi 
nous  and  extended  as  to  be  cumbersome,  and  too  un 
wieldy  for  the  purpose  designed. 

Others  realized  this  more  fully  than  myself,  and 
from  them  came  many  suggestion  in  perfecting  the 
present  and  more  practical  system.  This  is  a  modi 
fication  and  simplification  of  the  former,  a  reduction 
to  practice  of  what  before  was  only  theory.  Three 
months  were  occupied  in  planning  and  testing  this 
new  system.  When  we  became  satisfied  with  the 
results,  we  began  indexing  and  teaching  the  art 
to  the  men.  As  the  work  progressed  and  the  plan 
inspired  confidence,  more  indexers  were  employed. 
Hundreds  were  instructed,  and  the  efficient  ones 
retained.  Mr  William  Nemos  came  in,  and  as  he 
quickly  mastered  the  system  and  displayed  marked 
ability  in  various  directions,  the  indexing  and  the  in 
dexers  were  placed  under  his  supervision. 

The  system  as  perfected  and  ever  since  in  successful 
and  daily  operation,  I  will  now  describe: 

Forty  or  fifty  leading  subjects  were  selected,  such 
as  Agriculture,  Antiquities,  Botany,  Biography,  Com 
merce,  Drama,  Education,  Fisheries,  Geology,  His 
tory,  Indians,  Mining,  etc.,  which  would  embrace  all 
real  knowledge,  and  cover  the  contents  of  the  whole 
collection,  except  such  parts  as  were  irrelevant.  For 
example,  a  writer's  ideas  of  religion  were  considered  of 
no  value,  as  was  anything  he  saw"  or  did  outside  of  our 
Pacific  States  territory;  or  his  personal  affairs,  unless 
of  so  striking  a  character  as  to  command  general  in 
terest.  These  forty  or  fifty  subjects  formed  the  basis 
of  the  index,  embracing  the  whole  range  of  practical 
knowledge,  history,  biography,  and  science,  while  ex- 


RESULTS  FROM  THE  INDEX.  241 

them  directed  immediately  to  all  the  sources  of  infor 
mation,  which  else  would  take  him  ten  years  at  least 
to  ferret.  If  information  is  desired  of  Tehuantepec, 
take  the  Tehuantepec  cards;  or  if  of  the  Zapotec 
tribe  only,  the  Zapotec  cards.  So  it  is  with  any  sub 
ject  relating  to  mining,  history,  society,  or  any  other 
category  within  the  range  of  knowledge. 

Thus  book  by  book  of  the  authorities  collected  was 
passed  through  the  hands  of  skilled  assistants,  and 
with  checks  and  counter-checks  an  immense  and  all- 
comprehending  system  of  indexing  was  applied  to  each 
volume.  Physical,  moral,  geographical,  historical,  from 
the  fibre  of  an  Eskimo's  hair  to  the  coup  de  maitre  of 
Cortes,  nothing  was  too  insignificant  or  too  great  to 
find  its  place  there.  With  the  index  cards  before  him, 
the  student  or  writer  may  turn  at  once  to  the  volume 
and  page  desired;  indeed,  so  simple  and  yet  so  effect 
ual  are  the  workings  of  the  system  that  a  man  may 
seat  himself  at  a  bare  table  and  say  to  a  boy,  Bring 
me  all  that  is  known  about  the  conquest  of  Darien, 
the  mines  of  Nevada,  the  missions  of  Lower  Califor 
nia,  the  agriculture  of  Oregon,  the  lumber  interests 
of  Washington,  the  state  of  Sonora,  the  town  of 
Queretaro,  or  any  other  information  extant,  or  any 
description,  regarding  any  described  portion  of  the 
western  half  of  North  America,  and  straightway,  as 
at  the  call  of  a  magician,  such  knowledge  is  spread 
before  him,  with  the  volumes  opened  at-  the  page. 
Aladdin's  lamp  could  produce  no  such  results.  That 
commanded  material  wealth,  but  here  is  a  sorcery  that 

t/ 

conjures  up  the  wealth  of  mind  and  places  it  at  the 
disposition  of  the  seer. 

Hundreds  of  years  of  profitless  uninteresting  labor 
may  be  saved  by  this  simple  device;  and  a  prominent 
feature  of  it  is  that  the  index  is  equally  valuable  in 
connection  with  any  other  library  where  copies  of  my 
material  may  exist.  The  cost  of  this  index  was  about 
thirty-five  thousand  dollars,  but  its  value  is  not  to  be 
measured  by  money. 


LIT.  IND.    16 


CHAPTER  XI. 

SOME  OF  MY  ASSISTANTS. 

Not  chaos-like  together  crush'd  and  bmis'd, 
But,  as  the  world,  harmoniously  confus'd, 
Where  order  in  variety  we  see, 
And  where,  though  all  things  differ,  all  agree. 

Pope. 

THOSE  to  whom  I  apply  the  term  assistants  by  no 
means  include  all  the  army  of  workers  who  have  at 
various  times  and  in  various  ways  lent  me  their  ser 
vices  in  my  historical  efforts.  During  the  long  term 
of  my  labors,  it  is  safe  to  say  that  no  less  than  six 
hundred  different  persons  were  at  work  for  me  at 
various  times  in  my  library.  As  the  minimum,  the 
number  engaged  in  the  library  at  any  one  time  dur 
ing  a  period  of  thirty  years  seldom  fell  below  twelve ; 
the  highest  being  fifty,  some  thirty  of  whom  were  on 
regular  details.  The  highest  number  was  employed, 
however,  only  when  there  was  extra  work  to  do,  such 
as  special  indexing,  extracting,  copying,  or  verifications. 
My  assistants  proper,  as  the  term  is  used  here,  are 
those  who  aided  me  in  my  more  responsible  labors,  and 
may  be  reduced  to  twenty  in  all,  though  more  than  a 
hundred  made  the  effort  unsuccessfully  at  one  time  or 
another. 

All  my  life,  whatever  I  have  had  in  hand,  whether 
in  the  field  of  business  or  of  literature,  I  have  always 
been  fortunate  enough  to  have  good  men  about  me, 
not  only  efficient  aids,  but  those  whom  I  could  call  my 
friends,  and  the  enjoyment  of  whose  regard  was  ever 
a  source  of  gratification.  Obviously  this  is  a  neces 
sity  whenever  a  person  undertakes  to  accomplish 

(245) 


246  SOME  OF  MY  ASSISTANTS. 

more  in  any  direction  than  a  single  head  and  pair  of 
hands  can  do  in  a  lifetime.  Though  all  have  not 
ability  and  integrity,  I  have  always  found  some  in 
whose  faithfulness  I  could  trust  as  in  my  own;  and 
while  the  responsibility  must  always  rest  upon  me 
alone,  some  portion  of  that  praise  which  has  been  so 
lavishly  bestowed  upon  me  and  my  enterprise  rightly 
belongs  to  them. 

Not  only  must  the  man  who  would  assist  in  his 
torical  work  aiming  at  the  truth  be  honest,  but 
honesty  must  be  so  inbred,  so  permeating  the  blood 
and  bones  of  him,  that  deceit  shall  find  no  entrance. 
Not  only  must  he  be  conscientious,  but  conscience 
must  have  full  possession,  and  all  his  thoughts  and 
actions  be  as  under  the  all-seeing  eye.  For  the  op 
portunities,  and  to  the  careless  and  unprincipled  the 
inducements,  for  slighting  the  work,  for  taking  the 
easiest  rather  than  the  most  thorough  way  of  doing 
a  thing,  are  so  great,  that  if  so  disposed  he  may  devote 
the  requisite  number  of  hours  to  his  task  and  ac 
complish  worse  than  nothing.  If  heedless  and  indif 
ferent,  and  he  be  so  disposed,  he  may  save  himself 
much  drudgery,  the  performance  of  which  never  would 
be  known  or  appreciated.  Hence,  I  say,  love  of  truth 
for  truth's  sake  must  be  to  every  one  of  these  men  as 
the  apple  of  his  eye.  It  is  true,  every  man  is  known 
to  his  fellows,  and  thoroughly  known  in  the  end.  No 
one,  however  cunning,  can  deceive  and  escape  detec 
tion  always.  He  will  be  weighed  and  measured  as 
time  passes  by  at  his  exact  value;  but  in  researches 
like  mine,  he  could,  if  he  would,  subject  one  to  great 
annoyance,  and  spoil  as  much  as  or  more  than  he 
accomplished,  which,  indeed,  was  not  unfrequently 
done  in  my  library. 

First  among  my  collaborators  I  may  mention  here 
Henry  Lebbeus  Oak.  I  have  already  told  how  he 
first  came  to  the  library,  and  at  an  early  day  became 
an  important  adjunct  to  it.  I  have  often  regarded  it 


CHAPTER  XII. 

MY  FIRST  BOOK. 

Two  strong  angels  stand  by  the  side  of  History  as  heraldic  supporters : 
the  angel  of  research  on  the  left  hand,  that  must  read  millions  of  dusty 
parchments,  and  of  pages  blotted  with  lies ;  the  angel  of  meditation  on  the 
right  hand,  that  must  cleanse  these  lying  records  with  fire,  even  as  of  old 
the  draperies  of  asbestos  were  cleansed,  and  must  quicken  them  into  regen- 
erated  life.  D&  Quincey, 

How  many  of  the  works  of  authors  may  be  at 
tributed  purely  to  accident!  Had  not  Shakespeare 
been  a  play-actor  we  should  have  had  no  Shakespeare's 
plays.  Had  not  Bunyan  been  imprisoned  and  Milton 
blind  we  might  look  in  vain  for  the  Pilgrims  Progress 
and  Paradise  Lost.  Robert  Pearse  Gillies  says  of 
Sir  Walter  Scott,  "I  have  always  been  persuaded  that 
had  he  not  chanced,  and  in  those  days  it  was  a  rare 
chance,  to  get  some  German  lessons  from  a  competent 
professor,  and  had  he  not  also  chanced  to  have  Lenora 
and  The  Wild  Huntsman  played  before  him  as  exercises, 
we  should  never  have  had  The  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel 
or  The  Lady  of  the  Lake"  More  than  any  other  one 
effort,  Thackeray's  writing  for  Punch  taught  him 
wherein  his  strength  lay.  The  great  satirist  at  the 
beginning  of  his  literary  career  was  not  successful, 
and  it  is  a  question  whether  he  ever  would  have 
been  but  for  a  certain  train  of  circumstances  which 
crowded  application  upon  his  genius.  Apelles,  unable 
to  delineate  to  his  satisfaction  the  foam  of  Alexander's 
horse,  dashed  his  brush  against  the  canvas  in  angry 
despair,  when  lo!  upon  the  picture,  effected  thus  by 
accident,  appeared  what  had  baffled  his  cunningest 
skill.  Turning-points  in  life  are  not  always  mere 

(277) 


278  MY  FIRST  BOOK. 

accident.  Often  they  are  the  result  of  teachings  or 
inborn  aspirations,  and  always  they  are  fraught  with 
some  moral  lesson  of  special  significance. 

Although  my  Native  Races  cannot  be  called  a  chance 
creation,  its  coming  as  my  first  work  was  purel}^ 
accident.  Following  my  general  plan,  which  was  a 
series  of  works  on  the  western  half  of  North  America, 
I  must  of  necessity  treat  of  the  aborigines  at  some 
time.  .  But  now,  as  ever,  I  was  intent  only  on  history, 
whose  fascinations  increased  with  my  ever  increasing 
appreciation  of  its  importance.  All  our  learning  we 
derive  from  the  past.  To-day  is  the  pupil  of  yesterday, 
this  year  of  last  year;  drop  by  drop  the  activities  of 
each  successive  hour  are  distilled  from  the  experiences 
of  the  centuries. 

And  the  moment  was  so  opportune.  Time  enough 
had  elapsed  for  these  western  shores  to  have  a  history, 
yet  not  enough,  since  civilization  lighted  here,  to  lose 
any  considerable  portion  of  it.  Then,  strange  as  it 
may  seem,  from  the  depths  of  despair  I  would  some 
times  rise  to  the  firm  conviction  that  with  my  facilities 
and  determined  purpose  I  could  not  only  do  this  work, 
but  that  I  could  save  to  these  Pacific  States  more 
of  their  early  incidents  than  had  been  preserved  to 
other  nations;  that  I  could  place  on  record  annals  ex 
ceptionally  complete  and  truthful;  that  I  could  write 
a  history  which  as  a  piece  of  thorough  work,  if  un 
accompanied  by  any  other  excellence,  would  be  given 
a  place  among  the  histories  of  the  world. 

Nor  was  the  idea  necessarily  the  offspring  of  egoism. 
I  do  not  say  that  I  regarded  this  country  as  the 
greatest  whose  history  had  ever  been  written,  or  my 
self  as  a  very  able  historian.  Far,  very  far  from  it. 
There  were  here  no  grand  evolutions  or  revolutions 
of  mankind,  no  mighty  battles  affecting  the  world's 
political  balance,  no  ten  centuries  of  darkness  and 
non-progressional  torpidity,  no  pageantry  of  kings,  or 
diplomacy  of  statesmen,  or  craft  of  priestly  magnates 
with  which  to  embellish  my  pages  and  stir  to  glowing 


304  MY  FIRST  BOOK. 

One  of  the  most  difficult  parts  of  the  work  was  to 
locate  the  tribes  and  compile  the  maps.  Accurately 
to  define  the  boundaries  of  primitive  nations,  much 
of  the  time  at  war  and  migrating  with  the  seasons,  is 
impossible,  from  the  fact  that,  although  they  aim  to 
have  limits  of  their  lands  well  defined,  these  bound 
aries  are  constantly  shifting.  The  best  I  could  do 
was  to  take  out  all  information  relative  to  the  location 
of  every  tribe,  bring  together  what  each  author  had 
said  upon  the  different  peoples,  and  print  it  in  his 
own  language,  under  the  heading  Tribal  Boundaries, 
in  small  type  at  the  end  of  every  chapter. 

Thus  there  were  as  many  of  these  sections  on  tribal 
boundaries  as  there  were  divisions;  and  from  these  I 
had  drawn  a  large  ethnographical  map  of  the  whole 
Pacific  States,  from  which  were  engraved  the  subdi 
visions  inserted  at  the  beginning  of  each  section.  In 
this  way  every  available  scrap  of  material  in  existence 
was  used  and  differences  as  far  as  possible  were  recon 
ciled. 

When  my  first  division  was  wholly  written  I  sub 
mitted  it  in  turn  to  each  of  my  principal  assistants, 
and  invited  their  criticism,  assuring  them  that  I 
should  be  best  pleased  with  him  who  could  find  most 
fault  with  it.  A  number  of  suggestions  were  made, 
some  of  which  I  acted  on.  In  general  the  plan  as 
first  conceived  was  carried  out;  and  to-day  I  do  not 
see  how  it  could  be  changed  for  the  better.  I  then 
went  on  and  explained  to  my  assistants  how  I  had 
reached  the  results,  and  giving  to  each  a  division  I 
requested  them  in  like  manner  to  gather  and  arrange 
the  material,  and  place  it  before  me  in  the  best  form 
possible  for  my  use.  During  the  progress  of  this 
work  I  succeeded  in  utilizing  the  labors  of  my  assist 
ants  to  the  full  extent  of  my  anticipations;  indeed,  it 
was  necessary  I  should  do  so.  Otherwise  from  a  quar 
ter  to  a  half  century  would  have  been  occupied  in  this 
one  work.  Without  taking  into  account  the  indexing 
of  thousands  of  volumes  merely  to  point  out  where 


UTILIZATION  OF  ASSISTANCE.  305 

material  existed,  or  the  collecting  of  the  material, 
there  was  in  each  of  these  five  volumes  the  work  of 
fifteen  men  for  eight  months,  or  of  one  man  for  ten 
years.  This  estimate,  I  say,  carefully  made  after  the 
work  was  done,  showed  that  there  had  been  expended 
on  the  Native  Races  labor  equivalent  to  the  well  di 
rected  efforts  of  one  man,  every  day,  Sundays  ex- 
cepted,  from  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  till  six  at 
night,  for  a  period  of  fifty  years.  In  this  estimate  I  do 
not  include  the  time  lost  in  unsuccessful  experiments, 
but  only  the  actual  time  employed  in  taking  out  the 
material,  writing  the  work,  preparing  the  index  for  the 
five  volumes,  which  alone  wras  one  year's  labor,  proof 
reading,  and  comparison  with  authorities.  The  last  two 
requirements  consumed  an  immense  amount  of  time, 
the  proof  being  read  eight  or  nine  times,  and  every 
reference  compared  with  the  original  authority  after 
the  work  was  in  type.  This  seemed  to  me  necessary 
to  insure  accuracy,  on  account  of  the  many  foreign 
languages  in  which  the  authorities  were  written,  and 
the  multitude  of  native  and  strange  words  which 
crowded  my  pages.  Both  text  and  notes  were  re 
written,  compared,  and  corrected  without  limit,  until 
they  were  supposed  to  be  perfect ;  and  I  venture  to  say 
that  never  a  work  of  that  character  and  magnitude 
went  to  press  finally  with  fewer  errors. 

Fifty  years !  I  had  not  so  many  to  spare  upon  this 
work.  Possibly  I  might  die  before  the  time  had  ex 
pired  or  the  volumes  were  completed;  and  what 
should  I  do  with  the  two  or  three  hundred  years'  ad 
ditional  work  planned? 

When  the  oracle  informed  Mycerinus  that  he  had 
but  six  years  to  live,  he  thought  to  outwit  the  gods 
by  making  the  night  as  day.  Lighting  his  lamps  at 
nightfall  he  feasted  until  morning,  thus  striving  to 
double  his  term.  I  must  multiply  my  days  in  some 
way  to  do  this  work.  I  had  attempted  the  trick  of 
Mycerinus,  but  it  would  not  succeed  with  me,  for 
straightway  the  outraged  deities  ordained  that  for 


LII.  IND.    20 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE   PERILS   OF   PUBLISHING. 

Murci6lagos  literarios 
Que  haceis  a  pluma  y  a  pelo, 
Si  quer^is  vivir  con  todoa 
Miraos  en  este  espejo. 

Iriarte. 

ALL  the  anxiety  I  had  hitherto  felt  in  regard  to 
the  Native  Races  was  as  author  thereof;  now  I  had  to 
undergo  the  trials  of  publishing. 

Business  experience  had  taught  me  that  the  imme 
diate  recognition,  even  of  a  work'  of  merit,  depends 
almost  as  much  on  the  manner  of  bringing  it  forth 
as  upon  authorship.  So  easily  swayed  are  those  who 
pass  judgment  on  the  works  of  authors;  so  greatly 
are  they  ruled  by  accidental  or  incidental  causes  who 
form  for  the  public  their  opinion,  that  pure  substantial 
merit  is  seldom  fully  and  alone  recognized. 

I  do  not  mean  by  this  that  the  better  class  of 
critics  are  either  incompetent  or  unfair,  that  they 
cannot  distinguish  a  meritorious  work  from  a  worth 
less  one,  or  that,  having  determined  the  value  of  a 
production  in  their  own  minds,  they  will  not  so  write 
it  down.  Yet  comparatively  speaking  there  are  few 
reviewers  of  this  class.  Many  otherwise  good  jour 
nals,  both  in  America  and  in  Europe,  publish  miserable 
book  notices. 

To  illustrate:  Would  the  average  newspaper  pub 
lisher  on  the  Pacific  coast  regard  with  the  same  eyes 
a  book  thrust  suddenly  and  unheralded  upon  his  at 
tention  as  the  production  of  a  person  whom  he  had 
never  known  except  as  a  shopkeeper,  one  whom  he 

(307) 


314  THE  PERILS  OF  PUBLISHING. 

one  of  the  first  scientific  men  of  the  age.  He  hap 
pened  to  be  absent  from  the  city  when  I  issued  my 
first  invitations,  and  on  his  return  I  sent  Goldschmidt 
to  him  with  a  copy  of  the  Native  Races,  as  far  as 
printed,  for  his  examination. 

Goldschmidt  found  the  professor  in  his  rear  office, 
stated  his  errand,  and  laid  the  printed  pages  before 
him.  Davidson  looked  at  them,  looked  at  the  list  of 
twelve  hundred  authorities  quoted  which  stood  at 
the  beginning  of  volume  i.,  turned  over  the  leaves, 
dropped  now  and  then  an  ejaculation,  but  said  little. 
Presently  his  colored  attendant  came  to  the  door  and 
addressed  him. 

"A  gentleman  wishes  to  see  you."  No  response. 
The  black  man  retired;  but  it  was  not  long  before  he 
appeared  again  with  a  similar  message. 

"All  right,"  returned  Davidson. 

Some  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  now  elapsed,  during 
which  the  professor  was  examining  the  pages  and 
asking  Goldschmidt  questions.  Again  the  black  face 
appeared  at  the  portal,  this  time  wrinkled  by  porten 
tous  concern. 

"There  are  four  or  five  men  in  the  outer  office 
waiting  to  speak  with  you,  sir." 

"Very  well,  let  them  wait!"  exclaimed  the  profes 
sor.  "Such  work  as  this  doesn't  fall  into  my  hands 
every  day." 

Though  I  had  not  then  met  Professor  Davidson, 
I  admired  him,  and  valued  his  opinion  highly. 
If  from  disinterested  intelligent  men  my  efforts 
could  not  secure  approval,  I  felt  that  I  need  go  no 
farther. 

Among  the  literary  notes  of  the  Overland  Monthly 
for  March  1874  appeared  a  brief  account  of  the  col 
lecting  and  indexing,  with  intimation  that  the  mass 
was  to  be  sifted  and  the  results  given  to  the  world  in 
some  shape.  This  notice  of  the  library  was  copied 
by  several  of  the  daily  newspapers. 

Next  appeared  a  long  article  in  the  same  maga- 


CHAPTEK  XIV. 

A    LITERARY     PILGRIM. 

Freuden  von  ausnehmendem  Geschmack  wie  Ananas  haben  das  Schlimme, 
dass  sie  wie  Ananas  das  Zahnfleisch  bluten  machen. 

Jean  Paul  fiichter. 

I  SET  out  on  my  pilgrimage  the  3d  of  August,  1874, 
taking  with  me  my  daughter  Kate,  to  place  in  school 
at  Farmington,  Connecticut.  After  a  few  days'  stay 
at  Buffalo  with  my  two  sisters,  Mrs  Palmer  and  Mrs 
Trevett,  I  proceeded  to  New  York. 

The  one  hundred  author's  copies  of  volume  i.  had 
been  printed  at  our  establishment  in  San  Francisco, 
and  the  plates  sent  east  before  my  departure.  Twenty- 
five  copies  of  the  work  accompanied  the  plates;  be 
sides  these  I  carried  in  my  trunk  printed  sheets  of 
the  Native  Races  so  far  as  then  in  type,  namely  the 
whole  of  volume  i.,  one  hundred  and  fifty  pages  of 
volume  ii.,  four  hundred  pages  of  volume  in.,  and  one 
hundred  pages  of  volume  iv. 

Beside  seeking  the  countenance  and  sympathy  of 
scholars  in  my  enterprise,  it  was  part  of  my  errand 
to  find  a  publisher.  As  the  plates  had  not  arrived 
when  I  reached  New  York  I  concluded  to  leave  the 
matter  of  publishing  for  the  present,  direct  my  course 
toward  Boston,  and  dive  at  once  in  luminis  oras. 

It  was  Saturday,  the  15th  of  August,  and  I  had 
promised  to  spend  Sunday  with  some  friends  at 
Bridgeport. 

At  the  New  Haven  railway  station  I  encountered 
President  Gilman,  to  whom  I  made  known  the  nature 
of  my  mission,  and  asked  if  he  deemed  it  the  proper 

(326) 


328  A  LITERARY  PILGRIM. 

daughters,  and  kept  the  wolf  from  the  door,  but  how 
she  did  it  God  knoweth. 

In  Hartford,  Tuesday,  President  Gilman  intro 
duced  me  to  Professor  Brewer  of  Yale,  Doctor  Asa 
Gray  of  Harvard,  and  others.  He  also  spoke  of  me 
to  several,  among  them  Mr  Warner  of  the  Courant, 
who,  when  I  called  upon  him  subsequently,  treated 
me  with  a  scarcely  anticipated  kindness.  I  was  then 
in  a  humor  to  be  won  for  life  by  any  man  who  would 
take  the  trouble.  It  may  seem  weak,  this  super- 
sensitiveness,  but  I  was  in  a  feverish  state  of  mind, 
and  my  nerves  were  all  unstrung  by  long  labor.  I 
was  callous  enough  to  ignorance  and  indifference,  for 
amongst  these  I  had  all  along  been  working,  but  in 
telligent  sympathy  touched  me,  and  Mr  Warner's 
manner  was  so  courteous,  and  his  words  so  encour 
aging,  that  they  sank  at  once  into  my  heart,  where 
they  have  remained  ever  since.  He  entered  warmly 
into  my  plans,  gave  me  strong,  decided  letters  to 
several  persons,  which  proved  of  the  greatest  advan 
tage,  and  on  leaving  his  office  I  carried  with  me  the 
benediction  which  I  know  came  from  an  honest  pen. 
"  God  bless  such  workers !" 

While  attending  the  meetings  of  the  association 
my  attention  was  called  to  one  Porter  C.  Bliss,  whose 
name  was  on  the  programme  for  several  papers  on 
Mexico.  Mr  Gilman  said  I  should  know  him,  and 
introduced  me.  He  was  a  singular  character  both 
without  and  within.  Yankee  in  inquisitive  push  and 
everlasting  memory,  he  had  been  lately  secretary 
of  the  American  legation  in  Mexico,  and  sometime 
famous  in  Paraguay.  I  now  remembered  that  his 
name  had  been  frequently  mentioned  to  me  as  one 
interested  in  Mexican  antiquities  and  literature. 

Universal  looseness  was  the  air  of  him,  stiffened 
somewhat  by  self-conceit.  Though  plain,  or  even 
homely,  in  appearance,  there  was  nothing  servile  in 
his  carriage,  and  the  awkwardness  of  his  address 
was  partially  concealed  by  his  assurance.  Of  a  light 


AT  CAMBRIDGE.  331 

volumes,  which  he  was  offering  in  whole  or  in  part  to 
libraries.  The  books  were  then  in  New  York,  and  I 
might  accompany  him  thither  to  select  at  pleasure. 
The  opportunity  was  too  tempting  to  let  slip;  and, 
while  it  was  inconvenient  for  me  to  return  to  New 
York  at  that  moment,  I  did  not  like  to  lose  sight  of 
my  new  and  apparently  erratic-minded  friend. 

"  Where  do  you  reside?"  I  asked. 

"  Nowhere/'  was  the  reply. 

"At  what  are  you  engaged?" 

"  Nothing." 

"  If  you  will  accompany  me  to  Boston  on  this  mis 
sion  of  mine,  I  will  pay  your  expenses,  and  leave  you 
in  New  York  with  many  thanks." 

"  I  will  attend  you  with  pleasure." 

I  do  not  know  that  this  was  a  very  wise  move. 
Myself,  solus,  cut  a  sorrowful  figure  enough,  but  my 
companion  doubled  the  dolor  without  adding  much 
diplomatic  ability.  True,  he  could  assist  me  some 
what  in  advising  whom  to  see  and  how  to  find  them. 
But  this  was  not  my  main  object  in  the  arrange 
ment.  He  might  have  his  books  sold  and  be  in  Nova 
Scotia,  where  indeed  he  talked  of  going  on  some 
body's  genealogic  business,  before  I  had  finished  my 
New  England  errand;  and  I  took  him  with  me  so 
that  I  might  continue  my  pilgrimage  without  losing 
him. 

Friday,  the  21st  of  August,  saw  us  at  the  Bellevue 
house,  the  establishment  of  Dio  Lewis,  a  cross  be 
tween  a  water-cure  institution  and  a  hotel.  Bliss  had 
been  there  before,  and  recommended  the  rooms  as 
better  than  those  of  the  hotels.  I  had  a  letter  from 
Mr  Warner  to  Mr  Ho  wells  of  the  Atlantic  Monthly, 
and  next  day  I  went  over  to  Cambridge,  where  he 
lived,  to  see  him.  He  was  absent  from  home,  and  not 
expected  back  for  a  week.  Inquiries  as  to  the  where 
abouts  of  certain  persons  revealed  that  most  of  them 
were  away,  so  that  little  was  done  till  the  following 
Tuesday,  when  we  started  out  in  earnest.  Proceeding 


334  A  LITERARY  PILGRIM. 

among  these  was  Doctor  Asa  Gray.  We  found  him 
in  the  botanic  garden,  and  he  heard  us  with  attentive 
interest.  I  presented  him  with  a  copy  of  my  book, 
which  he  said  with  my  permission  he  would  place  upon 
the  shelves  of  the  Harvard  library.  I  objected.  The 
book  was  for  him,  if  he  would  accept  it.  This  fashion 
of  giving  public  libraries  presented  books  I  do  not 
relish.  It  is  a  sort  of  cheat  practised  upon  the 
author,  who,  if  he  wishes  a  library  presented  with  a 
copy  of  his  book,  prefers  giving  it  direct  instead  of 
through  another;  if  he  does  not,  another  has  no  right 
to  so  dispose  of  a  book  which  was  given  him  to  keep. 

It  was  my  intention  to  ask  eastern  scholars  to  ex 
amine  my  book  and  give  me  an  expression  of  their 
opinion  in  writing;  but  in  talking  the  matter  over 
with  Dr  Gray  he  advised  me  to  delay  such  request 
until  the  reviewers  had  pronounced  their  verdict,  or 
at  all  events  until  such  expression  of  opinion  came 
naturally  and  voluntarily.  This  I  concluded  to  do; 
though  at  the  same  time  I  could  not  understand  what 
good  private  opinions  would  do  me  after  public  re 
viewers  had  spoken.  Their  praise  I  should  not  care 
to  supplement  with  feebler  praise;  their  disapproba 
tion  could  not  be  averted  after  it  had  been  printed. 

And  so  it  turned  out.  What  influence  my  seeing 
these  men  and  presenting  them  copies  of  my  book  had 
on  reviewers,  if  any,  I  have  no  means  of  knowing. 
Directly,  I  should  say  it  had  none;  indirectly,  as  for 
example,  a  word  dropped  upon  the  subject,  or  a  knowl 
edge  of  the  fact  that  the  author  had  seen  and  had  ex 
plained  the  character  of  his  work  to  the  chief  scholars 
of  the  country,  might  make  the  reviewer  regard  it 
a  little  more  attentively  than  he  otherwise  would. 
On  the  receipt  of  the  fifth  volume  of  the  Native  Races 
Doctor  Gray  wrote  me:  "I  am  filled  more  and  more 
with  admiration  of  what  you  have  done  and  are  doing; 
and  all  I  hear  around  me,  and  read  from  the  critical 
judges,  adds  to  the  good  opinion  I  had  formed." 

Doctor  Gray  gave  me  letters  to  Francis  Parkman, 


ADAMS  AND  LOWELL.  335 

Charles  Francis  Adams,  and  others.  While  at  Cam 
bridge  we  called  on  Mrs  Horace  Mann,  but  she  being 
ill,  her  sister,  Miss  Peabody,  saw  us  instead.  With 
eloquence  of  tongue  and  ease  and  freedom  she  dis 
sected  the  most  knotty  problems  of  the  day. 

James  Russell  Lowell  lived  in  a  pleasant,  plain 
house,  common  to  the  intellectual  and  refined  of  that 
locality.  Longfellow's  residence  was  the  most  pre 
tentious  I  visited,  but  the  plain,  home-like  dwellings, 
within  which  was  the  atmosphere  of  genius  or  cul 
ture,  were  most  attractive  to  me.  How  cold  and  soul 
less  are  the  Stewart's  marble  palaces  of  New  York 
beside  these  New  England  abodes  of  intellect  with 
their  chaste  though  unaffected  adornments! 

Lowell  listened  without  saying  a  word;  listened  for 
three  or  five  minutes,  I  should  think,  without  a  nod  or 
movement  signifying  that  he  heard  me.  I  was  quite 
ready  to  take  offence  when  once  the  suspicion  came 
that  I  was  regarded  as  a  bore. 

"  Perhaps  I  tire  you,"  at  length  I  suggested. 

"  Pray  go  on,"  said  he. 

When  I  had  finished  he  entered  warmly  into  the 
merits  of  the  case,  made  several  suggestions  and  dis 
cussed  points  of  difference.  He  bound  me  to  him 
forever  by  his  many  acts  of  sympathy  then  and  after 
ward,  for  he  never  seemed  to  lose  interest  in  my  labors, 
and  wrote  me  regarding  them.  What,  for  example, 
could  have  been  more  inspiring  at  that  time  than 
to  receive  from  him,  shortly  after  my  return  to  San 
Francisco,  such  words  as  these:  "I  have  read  your 
first  volume  with  so  much  interest  that  I  am  hungry 
for  those  to  come.  You  have  handled  a  complex, 
sometimes  even  tangled  and  tautological  subject,  with 
so  much  clearness  and  discrimination  as  to  render  it 
not  merely  useful  to  the  man  of  science,  but  attractive 
to  the  general  reader.  The  conscientious  labor  in  col 
lecting,  and  the  skill  shown  in  the  convenient  arrange 
ment  of  such  a  vast  body  of  material,  deserve  the 
highest  praise." 


PHILLIPS,  WHITTIER,  LONGFELLOW.  337 

word;  and  it  was  about  me,  and  my  work,  and  Cali 
fornia,  and  whom  I  should  see,  that  he  was  talking. 
Nor  was  this  all.  Next  morning,  in  Boston,  he  handed 
me  a  package  of  letters  addressed  to  persons  whom  he 
thought  would  be  interested  in  the  work,  and  whose 
names  had  occurred  to  him  after  I  had  left. 

Later  he  writes  me :  "  Your  third  volume  has  come. 
Thanks  for  your  remembrance  of  me.  I  read  each 
chapter  with  growing  interest.  What  a  storehouse 
you  provide  for  every  form  and  department  of  history 
in  time  to  come.  I  did  you  no  justice  when  you  first 
opened  your  plan  to  me.  I  fancied  it  was  something 
like  the  French  Mifynoires  pour  Servir.  But  yours  is  a 
history,  full  and  complete;  every  characteristic  amply 
illustrated;  every  picture  preserved;  all  the  traits 
marshalled  with  such  skill  as  leaves  nothing  further  to 
be  desired.  Then  such  ample  disquisitions  on  kindred 
topics,  and  so  much  cross-light  thrown  on  the  picture, 
you  give  us  the  races  alive  again  and  make  our  past 
real.  I  congratulate  you  on  the  emphatic  welcome 
the  press  has  everywhere  given  you." 

How  different  in  mind,  manner,  heart,  and  head  are 
the  men  we  meet  I 

John  Gr.  Whittier  was  a  warm  personal  friend  of 
Phillips,  and  to  him  among  others  the  latter  sent  me. 
We  went  to  Amesbury,  where  the  poet  resided,  the 
day  after  meeting  Phillips  in  Boston.  A  frank,  warm 
hearted  Quaker,  living  in  a  plain,  old-fashioned  village 
house.  He  gave  me  letters  to  Longfellow,  Emerson, 
and  Doctor  Barnard.  "I  have  been  so  much  in 
terested  in  his  vast  and  splendid  plan  of  a  history  of 
the  western  slope  of  our  continent/'  he  writes  to  Mr 
Longfellow,  "that  I  take  pleasure  in  giving  him  a 
note  to  thee.  What  material  for  poems  will  be 
gathered  up  in  his  volumes!  It  seems  to  me  one  of 
the  noblest  literary  enterprises  of  our  day." 

"  This  I  will  deliver,"  said  I,  picking  up  the  one  ad 
dressed  to  Longfellow,  "if  I  am  permitted  to  retain 
it;  not  otherwise.  We  in  California  do  not  see  a  letter 


LIT.  INC.    22 


338  A  LITERARY  PILGRIM. 

from  Whittier  to  Longfellow  every  day."  He  laughed 
and  replied:  "My  letters  are  getting  to  be  common 
enough  now."  I  did  not  see  Mr  Longfellow,  but  he 
wrote  me  very  cordially,  praising  my  book  and  regret 
ting  he  should  have  missed  my  call. 

Informed  that  Professor  Henry  Adams,  editor  of 
the  North  American  Review,  was  staying  a  few  miles 
from  Salem,  I  sought  him  there,  but  unsuccessfully. 
Next  day  I  met  accidentally  his  father,  Charles  Fran 
cis  Adams,  to  whom  I  expressed  regrets  at  not  having 
seen  his  son.  He  said  he  would  speak  to  him  for  me, 
and  remarked  that  if  I  could  get  Francis  Parkman  to 
review  my  book  in  the  North  American  it  would  be  a 
great  thing  for  it,  but  that  his  health  and  preoccupa 
tion  would  probably  prevent.  He  gave  ine  several 
letters,  and  I  left  full  copies  of  my  printed  sheets 
with  him. 

Now  of  all  things,  '  great  things'  for  my  book  I 
coveted.  So  to  Parkman  I  went.  I  found  him  at 
Jamaica  Plains,  where  he  resided  during  summer, 
deep  in  his  literary  work.  After  all,  the  worker  is  the 
man  to  take  work  to,  and  not  the  man  of  leisure. 
Mr  Parkman  was  a  tall  spare  man,  with  a  smiling  face 
and  winning  manner.  I  noticed  that  all  great  men  in 
the  vicinity  of  Boston  were  tall  and  thin,  and  wore 
smiling  faces,  and  indications  of  innate  gentleness  of 
character. 

"This  shows  wonderful  research,  and  I  think  your 
arrangement  is  good,  but  I  should  have  to  review  it 
upon  its  merits,"  said  Mr  Parkman. 

"As  a  matter  of  course,"  I  replied. 

"I  do  not  know  that  I  am  competent  to  do  the 
subject  justice,"  he  now  remarked. 

"  I  will  trust  you  for  that,"  said  I. 

And  so  the  matter  was  left;  and  in  due  time  sev 
eral  splendid  reviews  appeared  in  this  important 
journal  as  the  different  volumes  were  published. 

I  was  told  to  call  on  the  Rev.  James  Freeman 
Clarke.  I  did  so,  but  he  was  not  at  home. 


342  A  LITERARY  PILGRIM. 

sonably  to  be  expected  from  a  community  thirty  years 
old.  That  kind  of  toil  seemed  to  belong  rather  to  a 
society  a  little  maturer,  to  a  region  of  public  libraries 
and  universities.  Even  the  older  states  had  as  yet 
yielded  it  but  sparingly;  and  was  it  to  be  expected 
from  San  Francisco?  Had  Mr  Bancroft  presented 
himself  wearing  a  specimen  of  the  sequoia  gigantea 
for  a  button-hole  bouquet  it  would  hardly  have  seemed 
more  surprising." 

Now  in  all  this  surely  there  was  nothing  very  diffi 
cult.  It  was  as  the  Boston  correspondent  of  the 
Springfield  Republican  had  said:  "  Little  or  nothing 
has  been  heard  here  of  his  labors,  and  the  surprise 
and  pleasure  with  which  so  magnificent  an  under 
taking  has  been  welcomed  by  eastern  scholars  must 
have  gratified  Mr  Bancroft." 

It  was  no  great  achievement  to  visit  these  men  and 
command  their  attention.  In  one  sense,  no.  And  yet 
in  the  state  of  mind  in  which  I  was  then  laboring,  it 
was  one  of  the  most  disagreeable  tasks  of  my  life,  and 
strong  as  I  usually  was  physically,  it  sent  me  to  bed 
and  kept  me  there  a  fortnight. 

I  had  been  entirely  successful ;  but  success  here  was 
won  not  as  in  San  Francisco,  by  years  of  tender  devo 
tion  to  an  ennobling  cause,  but  by  what  I  could  not 
but  feel  to  be  an  humiliating  course.  I  sought  men 
whom  I  did  not  wish  to  see,  and  talked  with  them  of 
things  about  which  of  all  others  it  was  most  distaste 
ful  to  me  to  converse.  It  was  false  pride,  however, 
and  my  extreme  sensitiveness  that  kept  alive  these 
feelings.  Good  men  assured  me  that  I  was  not  over 
stepping  the  bounds  of  literary  decorum  in  thus 
thrusting  my  work  forward  upon  the  notice  of  the 
world;  that  my  position  was  peculiar,  and  that  in  jus 
tice  to  my  undertaking  in  San  Francisco  I  could  not 
do  otherwise. 

I  had  met  with  much  that  was  assuring,  but  I  had 
likewise  encountered  much  that  was  disheartening. 
I  found  here,  as  elsewhere  in  the  affairs  of  mankind, 


JOHN  W  DRAPER.  345 

into  supremacy  the  east  decays,  and  that  there  is 
now  no  further  west  for  restless  learning  to  reach. 
Palestine  and  Egypt  are  dead;  the  greatness  of  Athens 
and  Rome  dates  two  thousand  years  back ;  London  is 
growing  old  ;  if  New  York  and  Boston  do  not  some 
time  die  of  old  age,  they  will  prove  exceptions  to  the 
rule ;  so  that  if  the  glory  of  the  world  be  not  some 
day  crowded  into  Sari  Francisco,  it  will  be  by  reason 
of  new  laws  and  new  developments.  In  a  word, 
Massachusetts  and  Connecticut  may  yet  go  to  school 
to  Michigan  and  California. 

In  New  York  I  met  George  Bancroft — with  whom, 
by  the  way,  I  am  in  no  way  related — who  gave  me  a 
letter  to  Doctor  Draper,  and  was  kind  enough  after 
ward  to  write : 

"To  me  you  render  an  inestimable  benefit;  for  you 
bring  within  reach  the  information  which  is  scattered 
in  thousands  of  volumes.  I  am  glad  to  see  your  work 
welcomed  in  Europe  as  well  as  in  your  own  country. 
In  the  universality  of  your  researches  you  occupy  a 
field  of  the  deepest  interest  to  the  world,  and  with 
out  a  rival.  Press  on,  my  dear  sir,  in  your  great 
enterprise,  and  bring  it  to  a  close  in  the  meridian 
of  life,  so  that  you  may  enjoy  your  well  earned 
honors  during  what  I  hope  may  be  a  long  series  of 
later  years." 

Doctor  Draper  was  a  man  well  worth  the  seeing; 
from  first  to  last  he  proved  one  of  my  warmest  and 
most  sympathizing  friends.  After  my  return  to  San 
Francisco  he  wrote  me:  "I  have  received  your  long 
expected  first  volume  of  the  Native  Races  of  the  Pacific 
States,  and  am  full  of  admiration  of  the  resolute  man 
ner  in  which  you  have  addressed  yourself  to  that  most 
laborious  task.  Many  a  time  I  have  thought  if  I  were 
thirty  years  younger  I  would  dedicate  myself  to  an 
exploration  of  the  political  and  psychological  ideas  of 
the  aborigines  of  this  continent;  but  you  are  doing 
not  only  this,  but  a  great  deal  more.  Your  work  has 
taught  me  a  great  many  things.  It  needs  no  praise 


348  A  LITERARY  PILGRIM. 

The  30th  of  September  saw  me  again  in  New 
Haven.  President  Porter  and  most  of  the  professors 
had  returned.  By  this  time  the  enthusiasm  with 
which  I  was  wont  to  tell  my  story  during  the  earlier 
stages  of  my  pilgrimage  had  somewhat  waned.  Never 
theless  I  must  make  a  few  calls.  President  Porter  I 
found  exceptionally  warm-hearted  and  sincere.  He 
gave  me  letters  of  strong  commendation  to  President 
Eliot  of  Harvard  and  to  Robert  C.  Winthrop.  At 
the  next  commencement  he  likewise  enrolled  my  name 
among  the  alumni  of  Yale  as  master  of  arts. 

Thence  I  proceeded  to  see  professors  Marsh, 
Brewer,  and  others.  While  wandering  among  these 
classic  halls  I  encountered  Clarence  King,  who,  young 
as  he  was,  had  acquired  a  reputation  and  a  position 
second  to  no  scientist  in  America.  He  was  a  man  of 
much  genius  and  rare  cultivation.  In  him  were  united 
in  an  eminent  degree  the  knowledge  acquired  from 
books,  and  that  which  comes  from  contact  with  men. 
His  shrewd  common-sense  was  only  surpassed  by  his 
high  literary  and  scientific  attainments,  and  his  broad 
learning  was  so  seasoned  with  unaffected  kindness  of 
heart  and  fresh  buoyant  good  humor  as  to  command 
the  profound  admiration  of  all  who  knew  him. 

He  was  my  ideal  of  a  scholar.  There  was  an  orig 
inality  and  dash  about  him  which  fascinated  me.  He 
could  do  so  easily  what  I  could  not  do  at  all;  he  was 
so  young,  with  such  an  elastic,  athletic  brain,  trained 
to  do  his  most  ambitious  bidding,  with  such  a  well 
employed  past,  a  proud  present,  and  a  brilliant  future, 
and  withal  such  a  modest  bearing  and  genial  kind- 
heartedness,  that  I  could  not  but  envy  him.  His 
descriptions  of  scenery  are  as  fine  as  Ruskin's  and  far 
more  original. 

He  had  often  been  in  my  library,  and  meeting  me 
now  at  Yale  he  shook  my  hand  warmly  as  I  thanked 
him  for  speaking  so  kindly  of  me  to  Mr  Higginson  at 
Newport  a  few  days  before.  After  some  further  con 
versation  I  was  about  to  pass  on  when  he  spoke  again : 


CLARENCE  KING.  340 

"  How  are  you  getting  along?" 

"  Very  well,"  said  I,  "  better  than  I  had  anticipated." 

"  Can  I  do  anything  for  you?"  he  asked. 

"  No,  I  thank  you,"  I  replied.  Then  suddenly 
recollecting  myself  I  exclaimed,  "Yes,  you  can;  re 
view  my  book  in  some  journal." 

"  I  will  do  so  with  pleasure,  if  I  am  competent." 

"  If  you  are  not,"  said  I,  "with  all  your  personal 
observations  upon  the  Pacific  slope,  I  may  as  well 
cease  looking  for  such  men  in  these  parts." 

"  Well,  I  will  do  my  best,"  he  replied. 

I  then  asked  him  for  what  journal  he  would  write 
a  review.  He  suggested  the  North  American  or  the 
Atlantic.  I  told  him  Parkman  was  engaged  for  one 
and  Bliss  for  the  other.  Then  he  said  he  would  con 
tribute  a  series  of  short  articles  to  the  Nation.  When 
I  returned  to  New  York  I  saw  Godkin.  Any  jour 
nalist  was  glad  to  print  anything  Clarence  King  would 
write,  so  that  Mr  Godkin  readily  assented  to  admit  in 
the  columns  of  the  Nation  Mr  King's  review  of  my  work. 

I  was  greatly  disappointed,  now  that  King  had 
agreed  to  write,  that  his  article  could  not  appear  in 
the  Atlantic,  where  were  first  published  his  matchless 
chapters  on  Mountaineering  in  the  Sierra  Nevada. 
That,  however,  was  out  of  the  question,  as  Bliss  was 
engaged  for  that  article,  and  probably  had  it  finished 
by  this  time. 

Meanwhile  Mr  Howells  wrote  me:  "I  have  not 
heard  a  word  from  Mr  Bliss,  and  it  is  quite  too  late 
to  get  anything  about  your  book  into  the  November 
number."  I  immediately  called  on  Bliss.  He  was 
buried  deep  in  some  new  subject.  The  money  I  had 
given  him  for  his  books  had  made  him  comparatively 
independent,  and  when  he  had  revelled  in  reading  and 
tobacco  smoke  for  a  time,  and  had  concluded  his 
literary  debauch,  there  would  be  time  enough  left  to 
apply  himself  to  the  relief  of  corporeal  necessities. 

"Bliss,  how  progresses  that  article  for  the  Atlan 
tic?"  I  asked  him. 


350  A  LITERARY  PILGRIM. 

"  Finely,"  he  replied.    "  I  have  it  nearly  completed." 

"  Show  me  some  of  it,  will  you?  I  want  to  see  how 
it  reads." 

"  I  cannot  show  it  you  in  its  present  state,"  he 
stammered.  "Next  time  you  come  in  you  shall  see 
it. 

I  was  satisfied  he  had  not  touched  it,  and  I  wrote 
Howells  as  much,  at  the  same  time  mentioning  my 
interview  with  King. 

"I  wrote  you  some  days  ago,"  Howells  replied, 
under  date  of  October  7,  1874,  "that  Mr  Bliss  had 
not  sent  me  a  review  of  your  book,  after  promising  to 
do  so  within  ten  days  from  the  time  when  he  called 
with  you.  So  if  Mr  King  will  review  it  for  me  I 
shall  be  delighted."  At  the  same  time  Howells  tele 
graphed  me,  "Ask  Clarence  King  to  write  review." 
Again  I  sought  the  retreat  of  Bliss.  I  found  him 
still  oblivious.  The  fact  is,  I  think  my  peripatetic 
friend  trembled  somewhat  at  the  responsibility  of  his 
position,  and  he  had  betaken  himself  to  a  vigorous 
literary  whistling  to  keep  his  courage  up. 

When  once  cornered,  he  admitted  he  had  not 
written  a  word  of  the  proposed  review.  I  then  told 
him  of  Clarence  King's  offer  and  Mr  Howells'  wishes, 
and  asked  him  if  he  would  be  willing  to  give  his  re 
view,  which  I  knew  he  would  never  write,  to  some 
other  journal.  He  cheerfully  expressed  his  willing 
ness  to  do  so,  and  congratulated  me  on  having  secured 
so  able  a  writer  as  Mr  King.  Therein  he  acted  the 
gentleman.  The  7th  of  December  Mr  Howells  writes 
me:  "I've  just  read  the  proof  of  Clarence  King's 
review  of  you  for  the  Atlantic — twelve  pages  of  unal 
loyed  praise."  Concerning  this  review  Mr  King  wrote 
from  Colorado  the  6th  of  November:  "Believe  me, 
I  have  found  great  pleasure  and  profit  in  twice  care 
fully  reading  the  Wild  Tribes.  Of  its  excellence  as 
a  piece  of  critical  literary  combination  I  was  fully 
persuaded  from  the  first,  but  only  on  actual  study  do 
I  reach  its  true  value.  Although  the  driest  of  the 


THE  LONGMANS.  355 

nomically  managed.  It  would  have  cost  me  five  times 
as  much  had  I  gone  over  and  attended  to  it  myself, 
and  then  it  would  have  been  no  better  done.  I  was 
specially  desirous  my  work  should  be  brought  to  the 
attention  of  English  scholars  and  reviewers.  I  ex 
plained  to  Mr  Brown  what  I  had  done  and  was  doing 
in  America,  and  suggested  he  should  adopt  some  such 
course  there.  And  I  must  say  he  entered  upon  the 
task  with  enthusiasm  and  performed  it  well. 

Englishman-like,  Mr  Brown  thought  the  London 
edition  should  be  dedicated  to  some  Englishman  prom 
inent  in  science  or  letters.  I  had  no  objections,  though 
it  was  .a  point  which  never  would  have  occurred  to  me. 
But  it  has  always  been  my  custom  to  yield  to  every 
intelligent  suggestion,  prompted  by  the  enthusiasm  of 
an  agent  or  assistant,  provided  his  way  of  doing  a 
thing  was  in  my  opinion  no  worse  than  my  way. 

Mr  Brown  suggested  the  name  of  Sir  John  Lub- 
bock,  and  sent  me  a  printed  page:  "I  dedicate  this 
work  to  Sir  John  Lubbock,  Bart.,  M.  P.,  F.  K  S.,  as 
a  tribute  of  my  high  esteem."  In  this  I  acquiesced, and 
so  the  dedication  was  made.  In  a  neat  note  Sir  John 
acknowledged  the  compliment,  writing  Mr  Brown  the 
10th  of  February,  "I  am  much  gratified  at  the  honor 
of  having  so  valuable  a  work  dedicated  to  me." 

To  Mr  Brown  I  had  sent  from  San  Francisco 
copies  of  volume  i.,  with  letters  enclosed,  to  about 
a  dozen  prominent  men  in  England,  among  them  Her 
bert  Spencer,  Sir  Arthur  Helps,  E.  B.  Tylor,  E.  G. 
Latham,  Sir  John  Lubbock,  Tyndall,  Huxley,  Max 
Muller,  Lecky,  Carlyle,  and  Murchison.  These  vol 
umes,  being  '  author's  copies,'  bore  no  imprint,  and  my 
publishers  objected  to  their  being  given  out  without 
the  London  imprint.  So  these  copies  were  returned  to 
me  by  Messrs  Longmans,  and  others  given  the  gentle 
men  I  had  named. 

The  acknowledgments  made  me  by  these  men,  re 
ceived  of  course  after  my  return  to  San  Francisco, 
were  hearty  and  free. 


^6  A  LITERARY  PILGRIM. 

Mr  Herbert  Spencer  writes  me:  aln  less  than  a 
year  I  hope  to  send  you  the  first  volume  of  the  Prin 
ciples  of  Sociology,  in  which  you  will  see  that  I  have 
made  frequent  and  important  uses  of  your  book ;"  and 
indeed  nothing  could  be  more  flattering  than  the  ref 
erences  therein  made  to  the  Native  Races.  "  During 
my  summer  trip  in  Europe,"  says  Mr  Gilman  in  a 
letter  from  Baltimore,  "I  have  frequently  heard  your 
great  work  spoken  of,  but  nowhere  with  more  com 
mendation  than  I  heard  from  Herbert  Spencer.  I 
am  sure  you  must  be  more  than  paid  for  your  labor 
by  the  wide-spread  satisfaction  it  has  given." 

Doctor  Latham,  the  eminent  ethnologist  and  lin 
guist,  writes:  "The  first  thing  I  did  after  reading  it 
with  pleasure  and  profit — for  I  can't  say  how  highly 
I  value  it — was  to  indite  a  review  of  it  for  the  Exam 
iner"  I  was  greatly  pleased  with  Mr  W.  E.  H. 
Lecky's  letters,  regarding  him,  as  I  did,  as  one  of 
the  purest  writers  of  English  living.  "I  rejoice  to 
see  the  book  advancing  so  rapidly  to  its  completion," 
he  says,  "for  I  had  much  feared  that,  like  Buckle's 
history,  it  was  projected  on  a  scale  too  gigantic  for  any 
single  individual  to  accomplish.  It  will  be  a  noble 
monument  of  American  energy,  as  well  as  of  Ameri 
can  genius."  And  again,  "I  was  talking  of  your  book 
the  other  day  to  Herbert  Spencer,  and  was  gratified 
to  hear  him  speak  warmly  of  the  help  he  had  found 
in  it  in  writing  his  present  work  on  sociology.  I 
always  think  that  to  take  a  conspicuous  position  in 
a  young  literature  is  one  of  the  very  highest  intellect 
ual  aims  which  an  ambitious  man  could  aspire  to; 
and  whenever  the  history  of  American  literature 
comes  to  be  written,  your  book  will  take  a  very  high 
place  among  the  earliest  works  of  great  learning 
America  has  produced."  I  was  glad  also  to  have  so 
graceful  a  writer  as  the  author  of  European  Morals 
speak  encouragingly  of  my  style,  which  more  than  any 
one  thing  connected  with  my  work  I  had  lamented. 
"  I  must  add,  too,"  he  concludes  his  first  letter  to  me, 


LATHAM,  LECKY,  HELPS.  357 

"that  your  style  is  so  very  vivid  and  flowing  that 
the  book  becomes  most  readable  even  to  those  who 
take  no  special  interest  in  the  subject." 

Sir  Arthur  Helps,  writing  just  before  his  death,  re 
marks:  "I  think  that  the  introductory  chapter  is 
excellent;  and  what  strikes  me  most  in  it  is  the  ex 
ceeding  fairness  with  which  he  treats  the  researches 
and  the  theories  of  other  inquirers  into  subjects  akin 
to  his  own." 

I  well  remember  with  what  trepidation  I  had 
thought  of  addressing  these  great  men  before  I 
began  to  publish.  I  wondered  if  they  would  even 
answer  my  letters,  or  take  the  trouble  to  tell  me  to  go 
to  the  devil.  Then  I  thought  upon  it,  and  said  to 
myself,  Though  smaller  than  many  you  are  bigger 
than  some,  and  the  lowest  polypus  of  a  scribbler  who 
should  address  you,  you  would  not  hesitate  to  answer 
kindly.  Then  I  took  heart  and  said  again,  Is  not  a 
pound  of  gold  as  good  to  me  brought  by  a  donkey  as 
by  a  sage?  I  know  these  facts  of  mine  are  valuable 
to  men  of  science.  They  are  the  base  of  all  their 
fabrics;  they  must  have  them.  And  in  the  form  I 
serve  them  no  great  amount  of  discernment  is  neces 
sary  to  assure  me  that  this  material,  when  well  win 
nowed,  is  in  a  shape  more  accessible  than  it  was 
before. 

Of  the  newspapers  and  magazines  containing  the 
best  reviews  and  descriptions  of  the  library,  Mr 
Brown  purchased  from  fifty  to  five  hundred  copies, 
and  distributed  them  among  the  libraries,  journalists, 
and  literary  men  of  the  world.  Not  having  a  proper 
list  of  selected  newspapers  and  of  the  libraries  in 
Europe  and  America,  I  employed  the  mercantile  and 
statistical  agency  association  of  New  York  to  pre 
pare  me  such  a  list,  writing  them  in  two  blank-books. 
There  were  eight  hundred  and  twenty  European, 
Asiatic,  and  colonial  libraries  written  in  one  book, 
and  the  European  and  American  newspapers  and 
United  States  libraries  in  the  other  book. 


358  A  LITERARY  PILGRIM. 

It  was  through  Mr  Edward  Jackson,  correspondent 
in  San  Francisco  of  the  London  Times,  that  the  Native 
Races  was  first  brought  to  the  notice  of  that  journal. 
Mr  Jackson  could  not  assure  nie  positively  that  the 
review  would  appear.  Mr  Walter,  the  editor,  would 
not  enlighten  Mr  Jackson  on  the  subject.  I  wished 
to  purchase  four  hundred  copies  of  the  issue  con 
taining  the  notice  of  the  Native  Races,  provided  there 
should  be  such  an  issue.  And  in  this  way  I  was 
obliged  to  give  my  order  to  Mr  Brown. 

From  London  the  3d  of  April  1875  Mr  Brown 
writes:  "At  last  the  Times  has  spoken,  and  I  have 
succeeded  in  securing  four  hundred  copies  of  the 
paper  by  dint  of  close  watching.  When  I  saw  the 
publishers  some  time  ago,  with  the  usual  indepen 
dence  of  the  Times  they  would  not  take  an  order  for 
the  paper,  or  even  the  money  for  four  hundred  copies  to 
be  struck  off  for  me  when  a  review  did  appear,  and  all 
I  could  get  was  this, — that  on  the  day  a  review  ap 
peared,  should  a  review  appear  at  all,  if  I  sent  down 
to  the  office  before  11  A.M.  they  would  strike  off  what 
I  wanted.  So  I  kept  a  person  watching — as  I  was 
sometimes  late  in  going  to  town — with  money  for  the 
review,  and  he  luckily  saw  it  in  the  morning,  rushed 
down  to  the  office,  and,  he  tells  me,  in  less  than  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  the  extra  four  hundred  copies  were 
struck  off  and  made  over  to  him.  The  copies  are  now 
being  posted  according  to  the  addresses  you  sent  me." 

In  October  1874  one  of  the  editors  of  the  Kol- 
nische  Zeitung  was  in  San  Francisco  and  visited  the 
library  frequently.  He  wrote  for  his  paper  a  descrip 
tion  of  the  library  and  the  Native  Races,  besides 
giving  me  a  list  of  the  German  magazines  and  re 
views  to  which  the  book  should  be  sent,  and  much 
other  valuable  information.  Dr  Karl  Andree  of  the 
Globus,  Dresden,  expressed  great  admiration  for  the 
work,  and  inserted  several  articles  concerning  it  in 
that  most  valuable  and  influential  journal. 


MY  SCRAP-BOOKS.  361 

I  cannot  enter  more  fully  into  the  detail  of  re 
viewers  and  reviews;  suffice  it  to  say  that  two  large 
quarto  scrap-books  were  filled  to  overflowing  with 
such  notices  of  the  Native  Races  as  were  sent  me. 
Never  probably  was  a  book  so  generally  and  so  favor 
ably  reviewed  by  the  best  journals  in  Europe  and 
America.  Never  was  an  author  more  suddenly  or 
more  thoroughly  brought  to  the  attention  of  learned 
and  literary  men  everywhere. 

Among  the  reviews  of  which  I  was  most  proud 
were  two  columns  in  the  London  Times,  some  thirty  or 
forty  pages  in  the  Westminster  Review,  two  columns  in 
the  London  Standard,  lengthy  articles  in  the  North 
American  Review,  the  New  York  LEco  d  Italia,  Hart 
ford  Courant,  Boston  Post,  Advertiser,  and  Journal; 
Springfield  Republican,  New  York  Tribune,  Christian 
Union,  Nation,  and  Post;  British  Quarterly,  Edinburgh 
Review,  London  Nature,  Saturday  Review,  Spectator, 
Academy,  Philadelphia  North  American,  Atlantic 
Monthly;  Scribners  Magazine,  The  Galaxy,  Revue 
Politique,  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes,  Hongkong  Press; 
Zeitschrift  fur  Lander,  Mittheilungen  der  Kais.,  etc., 
Europa  und  das  Ausland,  Germany;  and  La  Voz  del 
Nuevo  Mundo.  I  might  mention  a  hundred  others, 
but  if  I  did,  all  would  not  be  unadulterated  praise. 
A  few  so-called  honors  fell  upon  me  after  publication, 
such  as  being  made  honorary  member  of  the  Massa 
chusetts  historical  society,  the  American  Antiqua 
rian  society,  the  Philadelphia  Numismatic  society, 
and  the  Buffalo  Historical  society,  for  which  due 
thanks  were  given.  Flattering  recognitions  came  also 
in  form  of  diplomas  and  complimentary  certificates. 
Probably  there  was  no  subject  connected  with  this 
western  coast  which  would  have  attracted  the  atten 
tion  of  so  many  of  the  first  scholars  of  America  and 
Europe,  which  would  have  brought  the  author  into 
such  prominence  throughout  the  learned  world,  which 
would  have  secured  him  such  unlimited  and  unqualified 
praise  from  every  source. 


CHAPTER  XY. 

THE     TWO     GENERALS. 

Ever  since  there  has  been  so  great  a  demand  for  type,  there  has  been 
much  less  lead  to  spare  for  cannon-balls. 

Bulwer. 

CAME  to  the  library  the  21st  of  October  1873 
Enrique  Cerruti,  introduced  by  Philip  A.  Roach, 
editor  and  senator,  in  the  terms  following:  "He  speaks 
Italian,  French,  Spanish,  and  English.  He  can  trans 
late  Latin.  He  has  been  a  consul-general  and  secretary 
of  legation.  He  is  well  acquainted  with  Spanish- 
American  affairs  and  the  leading  men  in  those  states." 

The  bearer  of  the  letter  stood  before  me,  a  man 
three  or  four  years  under  forty,  slightly  built,  of 
medium  height,  with  a  long  thin  face,  prominent 
square  forehead,  dark  protruding  eyes,  and  full  mouth 
drawn  down  at  the  corners,  long  neatly  brushed  black 
hair  and  long  thin  mustache.  His  complexion  was 
a  dark  sallow;  and  there  was  a  general  flatness  of 
features  and  a  drooping  Quixotic  melancholy  per 
vading  his  entire  physique.  In  his  hand  he  held  a 
glossy  new  beaver,  matching  his  glossy  black  hair, 
but  further  than  these  there  was  nothing  new  or 
bright  about  him,  except  his  boots,  which  were  well 
polished.  His  clothes  were  cheap  rather  than  shabby, 
and  the  crevices  of  his  coarse  linen  shirt-bosom  were 
well  filled  with  clean  white  starch.  Eyes,  mouth,  and 
melancholy  mustache,  features  and  form,  were  now 
all  on  the  qui  vive  to  know  what  destiny  would  next 
do  with  him.  He  was  a  unique  copy,  as  Dibdin  re 
marked  of  the  Dieppe  postilion. 

(365) 


MARIANO  DE  QUADALUPE  VALLEJO.  377 

Thus  were  these  two  young  men,  destined  to  exercise 
so  marked  an  influence  upon  the  impressible  society 
of  California,  blest  beyond  parallel  by  this  admis 
sion  into  the  great  school  of  free  and  interchangeable 
thought. 

General  Vallejo  was  a  man  of  fine  physique,  rather 
above  medium  height,  portly  and  straight  as  an  arrow, 
with  a  large  round  head,  high  forehead,  half-closed 
eyes,  thin  black  hair,  and  side-whiskers.  Every  mo 
tion  betrayed  the  military  man  and  the  gentleman. 
His  face  wore  usually  a  contented  and  often  jovial 
expression,  but  the  frequent  short  quick  sigh  told  of 
unsatisfied  longings,  of  vain  regrets  and  lacerated  am 
bitions. 

And  no  wonder.  For  within  the  period  of  his 
manhood  he  had  seen  California  emerge  from  a  quiet 
wilderness  and  become  the  haunt  of  embroiling  civili 
zation.  He  had  seen  arise  from  the  bleak  and  shifting 
sand-dunes  of  Yerba  Buena  cove  a  mighty  metrop 
olis,  the  half  of  which  he  might  have  owned  as  easily 
as  to  write  his  name,  but  of  which  there  was  not  a 
single  foot  he  could  now  call  his  own,  and  where  he 
wandered  well  nigh  a  stranger;  he  had  seen  the  grace 
ful  hills  and  sweet  valleys  of  his  native -land  pass  from 
the  gentle  rule  of  brothers  and  friends  into  the  hands  of 
foreigners,  under  whose  harsh  domination  the  sound 
of  his  native  tongue  had  died  away  like  angels'  music. 

Look  in  upon  him  at  Sonoma,  at  any  time  from 
five  to  ten  years  after  his  settling  there,  and  for  a 
native  Californian  you  find  a  prince,  one  who  occupies, 
commands,  and  lives  in  rustic  splendor.  His  house,  a 
long  two-story  adobe,  with  wing  and  out-houses,  was 
probably  the  finest  in  California.  Besides  his  dusky 
retainers,  who  were  swept  away  by  diseases  brought 
upon  them  by  the  white  man,  he  had  always  on  the 
premises  at  his  command  a  company  of  soldiers,  and 
servants  without  number.  There  he  had  his  library, 
and  there  he  wrote  a  history  of  California,  covering 


CHAPTER  XYI. 

ITALIAN      STRATEGY. 

A  few  drops  of  oil  will  set  the  political  machine  at  work,  when  a  ton 
of  vinegar  would  only  corrode  the  wheels  and  canker  the  movements. 

Colton. 

GENERAL  VALLEJO  was  wary;  General  Cerruti  was 
wily.  Rumor  had  filled  all  the  drawers  and  chests  at 
Lachryma  Montis,  the  residence  of  General  Vallejo 
at  Sonoma,  with  priceless  documents  relating  to  the 
history  of  California,  some  saved  from  the  fire  which 
destroyed  his  dwelling,  some  gathered  since,  and 
had  endowed  the  owner  with  singular  knowledge  in 
deciphering  them  and  in  explaining  early  affairs. 
Hence,  when  some  petty  scribbler  wished  to  talk 
largely  about  things  of  which  he  knew  nothing,  he 
would  visit  Sonoma,  would  bow  and  scrape  himself 
into  the  parlor  at  Lachryma  Montis,  or  besiege  the 
general  in  his  study,  and  beg  for  some  particular  pur 
pose  a  little  information  concerning  the  untold  past. 
The  general  declared  that  rumor  was  a  fool,  and 
directed  applicants  to  the  many  historical  and  bio 
graphical  sketches  already  in  print. 

I  had  addressed  to  Sonoma  communications  of  this 
character  several  times  myself,  and  while  I  always 
received  a  polite  reply  there  was  no  tangible  result. 
As  Cerruti  displayed  more  and  more  ability  in  gath 
ering  material,  and  as  I  was  satisfied  that  General 
Vallejo  could  disclose  more  then  he  professed  himself 
able  to,  I  directed  the  Italian  to  open  correspondence 
with  him,  with  instructions  to  use  his  own  judgment 
in  storming  the  walls  of  indifference  and  prejudice  at 
Lachryma  Montis. 

(383) 


392  ITALIAN  STRATEGY. 

his  many  prominent  and  unrecorded  deeds,  out  of  a 
work  such  as  this  purported  to  be. 

One  day  while  in  a  somewhat  more  than  usually 
confidential  mood  he  said  to  Cerruti:  ."I  cannot  but 
believe  Mr  Bancroft  to  be  in  earnest,  and  that  he 
means  to  give  the  world  a  true  history  of  Califor 
nia.  I  was  born  in  this  country ;  I  once  undertook  to 
write  its  history,  but  my  poor  manuscript  and  my 
house  were  burned  together.  I  was  absent  from  home 
at  the  time.  By  mere  chance  my  servants  succeeded 
in  saving  several  bundles  of  documents  referring  to 
the  early  days  of  California,  but  the  number  was  in 
significant  compared  with  those  destroyed.  However, 
I  will  write  to  San  Josd  for  a  trunk  filled  with  papers 
that  I  have  there,  and  of  which  you  may  copy  for 
Mr  Bancroft  what  you  please." 

"  But,  General, "  exclaimed  Cerruti,  overwhelmed 
by  the  revelation,  "I  cannot  copy  them  here.  Since 
you  have  been  so  kind  as  to  repose  this  confidence  in 
me,  permit  me  to  take  the  papers  to  the  library  and 
employ  men  to  copy  them;  otherwise  I  might  work 
over  them  for  years. " 

"Well,  be  it  so,"  replied  the  general;  "and  while 
you  are  about  it,  there  are  two  other  chests  of  docu 
ments  here  which  I  have  never  disturbed  since  the 
fire.  Take  them  also:  copy  them  as  quickly  as  you 
can  and  return  them  to  me.  I  shall  be  more  than 
repaid  if  Mr  Bancroft's  history  proves  such  as  my 
country  deserves." 

Now  it  was  a  fundamental  maxim  with  Cerruti 
never  to  be  satisfied.  In  collecting  material,  where 
I  and  most  men  would  be  gratefully  content,  acquisi 
tion  only  made  him  the  more  avaricious.  As  long 
as  there  was  anything  left,  so  long  did  he  not  cease 
to  importune. 

"  Why  not  multiply  this  munificence  fourfold,"  he 
said,  "  by  giving  Mr  Bancroft  these  documents  out 
and  out,  and  so  save  him  the  heavy  expense  of  copying 
them?  That  would  be  a  deed  worthy  General  Vallejo. 


THE  EVOLUTION  OF  A  HISTORY.  393 

Surely  Mr  Bancroft's  path  is  beset  with  difficulties 
enough  at  best.  In  his  library  your  documents  will 
be  safely  kept;  they  will  be  collated,  bound,  and 
labelled  with  your  name,  and  this  good  act  shall  not 
only  be  heralded  now,  but  the  record  of  it  shall  stand 
forever." 

"  No,  sir!"  exclaimed  the  general,  emphatically. 
"At  all  events  not  now.  And  I  charge  you  to  make  no 
further  allusion  to  such  a  possibility  if  you  value  my 
favor.  Think  you  I  regard  these  papers  so  lightly  as 
to  be  wheedled  out  of  them  in  little  more  than  two 
short  months,  and  by  one  almost  a  stranger?  You 
have  asked  many  times  for  my  recollections;  those  I 
am  now  prepared  to  give  you." 

"Good!"  cried  Cerruti,  who  was  always  ready  to 
take  what  he  could  get,  provided  he  could  not  get 
what  he  wanted.  "All  ready,  general;  you  may  begin 
your  narrative." 

"My  friend,"  returned  the  general,  mildly,  "you 
seem  to  be  in  haste.  I  should  take  you  for  a  Yankee 
rather  than  for  an  Italian.  Do  you  expect  me  to  write 
history  on  horseback?  I  do  not  approve  of  this 
method.  I  am  willing  and  ready  to  relate  all  I  can 
remember,  but  I  wish  it  clearly  understood  that  it 
must  be  in  my  own  way,  and  at  my  own  time.  I  will 
not  be  hurried  or  dictated  to.  It  is  my  history,  and  not 
yours,  I  propose  to  tell.  Pardon  me,  my  friend,  for 
speaking  thus  plainly,  but  I  am  particular  on  this 
point.  If  I  give  my  story  it  must  be  worthy  of  the 
cause  and  worthy  of  me." 

To  Cerruti  it  was  easier  to  write  a  dozen  pages 
than  to  think  about  writing  one.  In  the  opinion  of 
Vallejo,  such  a  writer  deserved  to  be  burned  upon  a 
pile  of  his  own  works,  like  Cassius  Etruscus,  who 
boasted  he  could  write  four  hundred  pages  in  one  day. 

But  this  rebuke  was  not  unpalatable,  for  it  lifted 
the  matter  at  once  from  the  category  of  personal  nar 
rative  to  the  higher  plane  of  exact  history.  It  was 
history,  and  nothing  beneath  it,  to  be  written  no  less 


394  ITALIA^  STRATEGY. 

from  documentary  than  from  personal  evidence,  and 
from  the  documents  and  experiences  of  others,  as  well 
as  from  his  papers  and  personal  observations. 

With  June  came  the  two  generals  to  San  Francisco. 
The  Vallejo  documents  were  all  in  the  library,  and 
round  one  of  the  long  tables  were  seated  eight  Mexi 
cans  copying  them.  One  morning  the  Spaniard  and 
the  Italian  entered  the  library.  I  think  this  was 
General  Vallejo's  first  visit  to  the  fifth  floor. 

It  was  to  him  an  impressive  sight.  Passing  the 
copyists,  who,  with  one  accord  signified  their  respect 
by  rising  and  bowing  low,  he  was  conducted  to  my 
room.  Savage,  Nemos,  Oak,  Harcourt,  Fisher,  and 
one  or  two  Spaniards  who  happened  to  be  acquainted 
with  the  general,  then  came  in;  cigars  were  passed 
and  the  conversation  became  general.  The  history  of 
California,  with  the  Vallejo  family  as  a  central  figure, 
was  the  theme,  and  it  was  earnestly  and  honestly  dis 
cussed.  Two  hours  were  then  spent  by  the  distin 
guished  visitor  examining  the  library.  He  was 
attended  by  Mr  Savage,  who  explained  everything, 
giving  in  detail  what  we  had  done,  what  we  were 
doing,  and  what  we  proposed  to  do. 

It  was  very  evident  that  General  Vallejo  was  im 
pressed  and  pleased.  Here  was  the  promise  of  a  work 
which  of  all  others  lay  nearest  his  heart,  conducted 
on  a  plan  which  if  carried  out  would,  he  was  con 
vinced,  secure  the  grandest  results.  It  was  a  work  in 
which  he  was  probably  more  nearly  concerned  than 
the  author  of  it.  If  I  was  the  writer  of  history,  he 
was  the  embodiment  of  history.  This  he  seemed  fully 
to  realize. 

Cerruti  saw  his  opportunity ;  let  my  faithful  Italian 
alone  for  that!  He  saw  Vallejo  drinking  it  all  in  like 
an  inspiration;  he  saw  it  in  his  enkindled  eye,  in  his 
flushed  face  and  firm  tread.  Before  the  examination 
of  the  library  was  fairly  finished,  placing  himself  by 
the  side  of  his  now  sincere  and  devoted  friend  he 
whispered,  "Now  is  your  time,  general.  If  you  are 


THE  VALLEJO  ARCHIVES.  395 

ever  going  to  give  those  papers — and  what  better  can 
you  do  with  them? — this  is  the  proper  moment.  Mr 
Bancroft  suspects  nothing.  There  are  the  copyists, 
seated  to  at  least  a  twelvemonth's  labor.  A  word 
from  you  will  save  him  this  large  and  unnecessary  ex 
penditure,  secure  his  gratitude,  and  the  admiration  of 
all  present." 

"He  deserves  them  I"  was  the  reply.  "Tell  him 
they  are  his." 

I  was  literally  speechless  with  astonishment  and 
joy  when  Cerruti  said  to  me,  "General  Yallejo  gives 
you  all  his  papers."  Besides  the  priceless  intrinsic 
value  of  these  documents,  which  would  forever  place 
my  library  beyond  the  power  of  man  to  equal  in 
original  material  for  California  history,  the  example 
would  double  the  benefits  of  the  gift. 

I  knew  General  Vallejo  would  not  stop  there.  He 
was  slow  to  be  won,  but  once  enlisted,  his  native  en 
thusiasm  would  carry  him  to  the  utmost  limit  of  his 
ability;  and  I  was  right.  From  that  moment  I  had 
not  only  a  friend  and  supporter,  but  a  diligent  worker. 
Side  by  side  with  Savage  and  Cerruti,  for  the  next 
two  years  he  alternately  wrote  history  and  scoured 
the  country  for  fresh  personal  and  documentary  infor 
mation. 

"When  I  visited  San  Francisco  last  week,"  writes 
General  Vallejo  to  the  Sonoma  Democrat,  in  reply 
to  a  complaint  that  the  Vallejo  archives  should  have 
been  permitted  to  become  the  property  of  a  private 
individual,  "I  had  not  the  slightest  intention  of  part 
ing  with  my  documents;  but  my  friends  having  in 
duced  me  to  visit  Mr  Bancroft's  library,  where  I  was 
shown  the  greatest  attention,  and  moreover  allowed 
to  look  at  thousands  of  manuscripts,  some  of  them 
bearing  the  signatures  of  Columbus,  Isabel  the  cath 
olic,  Philip  II.,  and  various  others  preeminent  among 
those  who  figured  during  the  fifteenth  century,  I  was 
exceedingly  pleased;  and  when  Mr  Bancroft  had  the 
goodness  to  submit  to  my  inspection  seven  or  eight 


CHAPTEE  XVII. 

ALVARADO     AND     CASTRO. 

God  made  man  to  go  by  motives,  and  he  will  not  go  without  them, 
any  more  than  a  boat  without  steam  or  a  balloon  without  gas. 

Beecher. 

NEXT"  among  the  Hispano-Californians  in  historical 
importance  to  Mariano  G.  Vallejo  stood  his  nephew 
Juan  B.  Alvarado,  governor  of  California  from  1836 
to  1842.  At  the  time  of  which  I  speak  he  lived  in  a 
plain  and  quiet  way  at  San  Pablo,  a  small  retired 
town  on  the  eastern  side  of  San  Francisco  bay.  In 
build  and  bearing  he  reminded  one  of  the  first 
Napoleon.  He  was  a  strong  man,  mentally  and  physi 
cally.  Of  medium  stature,  his  frame  was  compact, 
and  well  forward  on  broad  shoulders  was  set  a  head 
with  massive  jawbones,  high  forehead,  and,  up  to  the 
age  of  sixty,  bright  intellectual  eyes. 

In  some  respects  he  was  the  ablest  officer  Cali 
fornia  could  boast  under  Mexican  regime.  He  was 
born  in  1809  ,which  made  him  a  year  younger  than  his 
uncle  General  Vallejo.  Before  he  made  himself  gov 
ernor  he  held  an  appointment  in  the  custom-house, 
and  had  always  been  a  prominent  and  popular  man. 
His  recollections  were  regarded  by  every  one  as  very 
important,  but  exceedingly  difficult  to  obtain. 

First  of  all,  he  must  be  brought  to  favor  my  under 
taking;  and  as  he  was  poor  and  proud,  in  ill  health, 
and  bitter  against  the  Americans,  this  was  no  easy 
matter. 

Alvarado  had  been  much  less  Americanized  than 
Vallejo;  he  had  mixed  little  with  the  new-comers,  and 

(407) 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

CLOSE  OF  THE  CERRUTI- VALLEJO  CAMPAIGN. 

To  gather  in  this  great  harvest  of  truth  was  no  light  or  speedy  work. 
His  notes  already  made  a  formidable  range  of  volumes,  but  the  crowning 
task  would  be  to  condense  these  voluminous  still-accumulating  results,  and 
bring  them  like  the  earlier  vintage  of  Hippocratic  books  to  fit  a  little  shelf. 

George  Eliot. 

FOR  about  two  and  a  half  years  generals  Cerruti 
and  Vallejo  applied  themselves  to  my  work  with  a 
devotion  scarcely  inferior  to  my  own :  the  latter  longer, 
the  former  meanwhile  with  some  assistance  carrying 
forward  to  completion  the  history  by  Alvarado. 
Under  the  benign  influence  of  the  elder  general,  the 
quick  impatient  temper  of  the  Italian  was  so  subdued 
that  he  was  at  length  kept  almost  continuously  at 
confining,  plodding  work,  which  secretly  he  abhorred. 
He  preferred  revolutionizing  Costa  Rica  to  writing  a 
hundred-page  dictation.  Yet  I  am  sure  for  my  work 
he  entertained  the  highest  respect,  and  for  me  true 
personal  regard. 

But  after  all  it  was  his  affection  for  General  Vallejo 
which  cemented  him  so  long  to  this  work.  His  es 
teem  for  the  sage  of  Sonoma  was  unbounded;  his 
devotion  was  more  than  Boswellian;  it  approached 
the  saintly  order.  He  would  follow  him  to  the  ends 
of  the  earth,  cheerfully  undertaking  anything  for 
him;  and  almost  before  Vallejo's  wish  was  expressed 
Cerruti  had  it  accomplished.  Yet  withal  the  Italian 
never  sank  into  the  position  of  servant.  He  was  as 
quick  as  ever  to  resent  a  fancied  slight,  and  Vallejo 
himself,  in  order  to  maintain  his  influence  over  him, 
must  needs  humor  many  vagaries. 

(428) 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

HOME. 

There  is  no  happiness  in  life,  there  is  no  misery,  like  that  growing  out  of 
the  dispositions  which  consecrate  or  desecrate  a  home. 

Chapin. 

I  ALMOST  despaired  of  ever  having  a  home  again. 
I  was  growing  somewhat  old  for  a  young  wife,  and  I 
had  no  fancy  for  taking  an  old  one.  The  risk  on  both 
sides  I  felt  to  be  great.  A  Buffalo  lady  once  wrote 
me:  "All  this  time  you  might  be  making  some  one 
person  happy."  I  replied:  "All  this  time  I  might  be 
making  two  persons  miserable."  And  yet  no  one 
realized  more  fully  than  myself  that  a  happy  marriage 
doubles  the  resources,  and  completes  the  being  which 
otherwise  fails  in  the  fullest  development  of  its  intui 
tions  and  yearnings.  The  twain  are,  in  the  nature 
human,  one;  each  without  loss  gives  what  the  other 
lacks. 

There  were  certain  qualities  I  felt  to  be  essential 
not  only  to  my  happiness,  but  to  my  continued  literary 
success.  I  was  so  constituted  by  nature  that  I  could 
not  endure  domestic  infelicity.  Little  cared  I  for  the 
world,  with  its  loves  and  hates,  whether  it  regarded 
me  kindly,  or  not  at  all.  I  had  a  world  within  me 
whose  good-will  I  could  command  so  long  as  I  was  at 
peace  with  myself.  Little  cared  I  for  a  scowl  here, 
or  an  attack  there ;  out  among  men  I  felt  myself  equal 
to  cope  with  any  of  them.  But  my  home  must  be  to 
me  heaven  or  hell.  There  was  no  room  in  my  head 
for  discord,  nor  in  my  heart  for  bitterness. 

To  write  well,  to  do  anything  well,  a  right-inten- 

(446) 


462  HOME. 

up  the  beautiful  valley  of  the  Schuylkill,  we  reached 
our  destination  about  noon.  Why  this  bold  Swiss, 
who  for  a  dozen  years  or  more  was  little  less  than 
king  among  the  natives  of  the  Sierra  foothills,  where 
had  been  enacted  the  mad  doings  of  the  gold-seekers, 
why  he  should  leave  this  land  of  sunshine,  even 
though  he  had  been  unfortunate,  and  hide  himself  in 
a  dismal  Dutch  town,  was  a  mystery  to  me.  Accident 
seemed  to  have  ruled  him  in  it;  accident  directed 
him  thither  to  a  Moravian  school,  as  suitable  in  which 
to  place  a  granddaughter.  This  step  led  to  the  build 
ing  of  a  house,  and  there  he  at  this  time  intended  to 
end  his  days.  Well,  no  doubt  heaven  is  as  near  Litiz 
as  California;  but  sure  I  am,  the  departure  thence 
is  not  so  pleasant. 

At  the  Litiz  Springs  hotel,  directly  opposite  to 
which  stood  General  Sutter's  two-story  brick  house, 
we  were  told  that  the  old  gentleman  was  ill,  unable 
to  receive  visitors,  and  that  it  would  be  useless  to 
attempt  to  see  him.  There  was  one  man,  the  barber, 
who  went  every  day  to  shave  the  general,  who  could 
gain  me  audience,  if  such  a  thing  were  possible.  I 
declined  with  thanks  his  distinguished  services,  and 
ordered  dinner. 

"  I  will  go  over  and  see  his  wife,  at  all  events,"  I 
said  to  the  clerk. 

"  That  will  avail  you  nothing,"  was  the  reply;  "  she 
is  as  deaf  as  an  adder." 

"  Who  else  is  there  in  the  family?" 

"A  granddaughter." 

That  was  sufficient.  I  did  not  propose  to  lose  my 
journey  to  Litiz,  and  what  was  more,  this  probably 
my  last  opportunity  for  securing  this  important  dicta 
tion.  I  was  determined  to  see  the  general,  if  indeed  he 
yet  breathed,  and  ascertain  for  myself  how  ill  he  was. 

After  knocking  loudly  at  the  portal  three  several 
times,  the  door  was  slowly,  silently  opened  a  little 
way,  and  the  head  of  an  old  woman  appeared  at  the 
aperture. 


STORMING  SUTTEE,  FORT.  463 

"Is  this  Mrs  Sutter?"  I  asked. 

No  response. 

"May  I  speak  with  you  a  moment  in  the  hall?" 

Still  no  response,  and  no  encouragement  for  me  to 
enter.  There  she  stood,  the  guardian  of,  apparently, 
as  impregnable  a  fortress  as  ever  was  Fort  Sutter  in 
its  palmiest  days.  I  must  gain  admission;  retreat 
now  might  be  fatal.  Stepping  toward  the  small 
opening  as  if  there  was  no  obstacle  whatever  to 
my  entering,  and  as  the  door  swung  back  a  little  at 
my  approach,  I  slipped  into  the  hall. 

Once  within,  no  ogress  was  there.  Mrs  Sutter  was 
a  tall,  thin,  intelligent  Swiss,  plainly  dressed,  and 
having  a  shawl  thrown  over  her  shoulders.  Her 
English  was  scarcely  intelligible,  but  she  easily  un 
derstood  me,  and  her  deafness  was  not  at  all  trouble 
some. 

Handing  her  my  card,  I  asked  to  see  General 
Sutter.  "I  know  he  is  ill,"  said  I,  "but  I  must  see 
him."  Taking  the  card,  she  showed  me  into  a  back 
parlor  and  then  withdrew.  From  Mrs  Sutter's  man 
ner,  no  less  than  from  what  had  been  told  me  at  the 
hotel,  I  was  extremely  fearful  that  I  had  come  too 
late,  and  that  all  of  history  that  house  contained  was 
in  the  fevered  brain  of  a  dying  man. 

But  presently,  to  my  great  astonishment  and  delight, 
the  door  opened,  and  the  general  himself  entered  at 
a  brisk  pace.  He  appeared  neither  very  old  nor  very 
feeble.  The  chance  for  a  history  of  Sutter  Fort  was 
improving.  He  was  rather  below  medium  height, 
and  stout.  His  step  was  still  firm,  his  bearing  sol 
dierly,  and  in  his  younger  days  he  must  have  been  a 
man  of  much  endurance,  with  a  remarkably  fine  phy 
sique.  His  features  were  of  the  German  cast,  broad, 
full  face,  fairly  intellectual  forehead,  with  white  hair, 
bald  on  the  top  of  the  head,  white  side  whiskers, 
mustache,  and  imperial;  a  deep,  clear,  earnest  eye 
met  yours  truthfully.  Seventy-five  years,  apparently, 
sat  upon  him  not  heavily.  He  was  suffering  severely 


CHAPTER   XX. 

SAN    FRANCISCO   ARCHIVES. 

There  are  some  who  think  that  the  brooding  patience  which  a  great 
work  calls  for  belonged  exclusively  to  an  earlier  period  than  ours. 

Lowell. 

DURING  the  first  ten  years  of  these  Ingatherings  and 
Industries  a  dark  cloud  of  discouragement  hung  over 
my  efforts,  in  the  form  of  four  or  five  hundred  vol 
umes,  with  from  seven  hundred  to  nineteen  hundred 
pages  each,  of  original  documents,  lodged  in  the  office 
of  the  United  States  surveyor-general  in  San  Fran 
cisco.  Though  containing  much  on  mission  affairs, 
they  constituted  the  regular  archives  of  the  secular 
government  from  the  earliest  period  of  Californian 
history.  They  were  nearly  all  in  Spanish,  many  of 
them  in  very  bad  Spanish,  poorly  written,  and  diffi 
cult  of  deciphering. 

On  the  secularization  of  the  missions,  that  is  to 
say  the  removal  of  national  property  from  missionary 
control,  in  many  instances  the  ruin  and  consequent 
breaking  up  of  mission  establishments  in  California, 
some  few  loose  papers  found  their  way  to  the  college 
of  San  Fernando,  in  Mexico,  which  was  the  parent 
institution.  The  clergy  still  held  the  mission  church 
buildings,  and  in  some  instances  the  out-houses  and 
orchards;  and  the  mission  books,  proper,  remained 
naturally  in  their  control.  There  were  likewise  left 
at  some  of  the  missions  bundles  of  papers,  notably  at 
Santa  Barbara;  but  these,  though  of  the  greatest  im 
portance,  were  not  very  bulky  in  comparison  to  the 
secular  archives. 

(168) 


CHAPTEE  XXI. 

HISTORIC  RESEARCHES  IN  THE  SOUTH. 

Every  man  must  work  according  to  his  own  method. 

Agassiz. 

SOUTHERN  CALIFORNIA  was  rightly  regarded  as  the 
depository  of  the  richest  historic  material  north  of 
Mexico.  And  the  reason  was  obvious:  In  settlement 
and  civilization  that  region  had  the  start  of  Oregon 
by  a  half  century  and  more;  there  were  old  men 
there,  and  family  and  public  archives.  The  chief 
historic  adventure  in  that  quarter  was  when,  with  Mr 
Oak  and  my  daughter  Kate,  early  in  1874  I  took 
the  steamer  for  San  Diego  and  returned  to  San  Fran 
cisco  by  land. 

Indeed,  as  I  became  older  in  the  work  I  felt  more 
and  more  satisfied  that  it  required  of  me,  both  in 
person  and  by  proxy,  much  travel.  True,  mine  was 
neither  a  small  field,  nor  a  narrow  epoch  highly  elab 
orated,  upon  the  many  several  scenes  of  which,  like 
Froude  at  Simancas,  Freeman  on  his  battle-fields,  or 
Macaulay  in  Devonshire,  Londonderry,  or  Scotland, 
I  might  spend  months  or  seasons  studying  the  ground 
and  elucidating  the  finer  points  of  prospect  and  posi 
tion;  yet  where  so  much  was  to  be  described  much 
observation  was  necessary. 

It  was  during  this  journey  south  that  Benjamin 
Hayes,  formerly  district  judge  at  Los  Angeles,  later  a 
resident  of  San  Diego,  and  for  twenty-five  years  an  en 
thusiastic  collector  and  preserver  of  historic  data,  not 
only  placed  me  in  possession  of  all  his  collection,  but 

(478) 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

FURTHER     LIBRARY    DETAIL. 

I  worked  with  patience,  which  means  almost  power.  I  did  some  excel 
lent  things  indifferently,  some  bad  things  excellently.  Both  were  praised; 
the  latter  loudest. 


IN  treating  of  the  main  issues  of  these  industries, 
I  have  somewhat  neglected  library  details,  which  I 
esteem  not  the  least  important  part  of  these  experi 
ences.  If  the  history  of  my  literary  efforts  be  worth 
the  writing,  it  is  in  the  small  particulars  of  every-day 
labors  that  the  reader  will  find  the  greatest  profit. 
The  larger  results  speak  for  themselves,  and  need  no 
particular  description;  it  is  the  way  in  which  things 
were  done,  the  working  of  the  system,  and  the  means 
which  determined  results,  that  are,  if  anything,  of 
value  here.  For,  observes  Plutarch,  "Ease  and  quick 
ness  of  execution  are  not  fitted  to  give  those  enduring 
qualities  that  are  necessary  in  a  work  for  all  time; 
while,  on  the  other  hand,  the  time  that  is  laid  out  on 
labor  is  amply  repaid  in  the  permanence  it  gives  to 
the  performance."  And,  as  Maudsley  observes,  "  To 
apprehend  the  full  meaning  of  common  things,  it  is 
necessary  to  study  a  great  many  uncommon  things." 
I  cannot  by  any  means  attempt  to  give  full  details, 
but  only  specimens  ;  yet  for  these  I  will  go  back  to  the 
earlier  period  of  the  work. 

Regular  business  hours  were  kept  in  the  library, 
namely,  from  eight  to  twelve,  and  from  one  to  six. 
Smoking  was  freely  allowed.  Certain  assistants  de 
sired  to  work  evenings  and  draw  extra  pay.  This  was 

(562) 


COMPLETION  OF  THE  'NATIVE  RACES.'  579 

wine  first  made?  Did  the  padres  make  wine  for  their 
own  use  only,  or  did  they  export  it?  Where  was  most 
wine  made  in  1846?  Into  whose  hands  fell  the  vine 
yards?  Mr  Lea  of  Philadelphia  desires  material  on  the 
Inquisition  in  Mexico;  Edward  Everett  Hale  asks  in 
formation  concerning  the  introduction  of  the  horse  in 
America.  Another  wants  a  list  of  all  the  medicinal 
herbs.  Mr  Packard  of  Salem,  on  behalf  of  the  United 
States  entomological  commission,  makes  inquiry  re 
garding  the  Spanish  Jesuit  accounts  of  grasshopper 
invasions  in  California;  and  there  were  hundreds  of 
such  queries,  which  I  deemed  it  my  duty  to  answer 
whenever  it  lay  in  my  power. 

To  those  who  best  know  what  it  is  to  make  a  good 
book,  the  rapidity  and  regularity  with  which  the  sev 
eral  volumes  of  my  works  appeared  was  a  source  of 
constant  surprise.  "  How  you  have  managed,"  writes 
John  W.  Draper  on  receipt  of  the  fifth  volume  of 
the  Native  Races,  "  in  so  short  a  time  and  in  so  satis 
factory  a  manner  to  complete  your  great  undertaking 
is  to  me  very  surprising.  The  commendations  that 
are  contained  in  the  accompanying  pamphlet  are 
richly  deserved.  I  endorse  them  all.  And  now  I 
suppose  you  feel  as  Gibbon  says  he  did  on  completing 
his  Decline.  You  know  he  was  occupied  with  it  more 
than  twenty  years.  He  felt  as  if  the  occupation  of 
his  life  was  gone.  But  you  are  far  more  energetic 
than  he.  You  are  only  at  the  beginning  of  your  in 
tellectual  life :  he  was  near  the  close.  You  will  find 
something  more  to  do."  Thus  it  is  ever.  Our  best 
reward  for  having  done  one  work  well  is  that  we 
have  another  given  us  to  do. 

On  the  completion  of  the  Native  Races  Oliver 
Wendell  Holmes  writes:  "I  congratulate  you  on  put 
ting  the  last  stone  upon  this  pyramid  you  have  reared. 
For  truly  it  is  a  magnum  opus,  and  the  accomplish 
ment  of  it  as  an  episode  in  one  man's  life  is  most 
remarkable.  Nothing  but  a  perfect  organization  of 
an  immense  literary  workshop  could  have  effected  so 


CHAPTER   XXIY. 

MY  METHOD  OF  WRITING  HISTORY. 

There  is  a  class  of  authors  different  from  those  who  cringe  to  prevalent 
tastes,  and  pander  to  degrading  passions;  men  whom  neither  power  can  in 
timidate,  nor  flattery  deceive,  nor  wealth  corrupt.  j^-  ^ 

HEGEL  says  of  the  Germans :  "  Instead  of  writing 
history,  we  are  always  beating  our  brains  to  discover 
how  history  ought  to  be  written."  Nor  is  brain- 
beating  fruitless.  Better  never  write  a  word  of  his 
tory,  or  anything  else/ unless  it  be  done  in  the  best 
manner  possible. 

My  system  of  historical  work  requires  a  few  words 
of  explanation,  since  not  a  little  of  the  criticism,  both 
favorable  and  unfavorable,  has  been  founded  on  an 
erroneous  conception  of  its  nature. 

In  order  to  comprehend  clearly  the  error  alluded 
to,  it  is  well  to  note  that  the  composition  of  an  his 
torical  work  involves  labor  of  a  twofold  nature,  the 
dividing  line  being  very  clearly  marked.  Material  in 
the  nature  of  evidence  has  first  to  be  accumulated 
and  classified;  subsequently  from  the  evidence  judg 
ments  have  to  be  formed  and  expressed. 

The  two  divisions  might  of  course  be  still  further 
subdivided,  but  such  subdivision  is  not  needed  for 
my  present  purpose.  My  system — if  it  be  worthy 
to  be  termed  a  system  distinct  from  others — of  which 
I  have  in  my  different  works  had  somewhat  to  say, 
and  others  have  said  still  more,  has  no  application 
whatever  to  the  second  and  final  operation  of  an  his 
torian's  task.  Every  author  aims  to  collect  all  possible 

(592) 


THE  ORDINARY  METHOD.  593 

evidence  on  the  topic  to  be  treated,  and  he  accom 
plishes  his  purpose  by  widely  different  methods,  of 
which  more  anon ;  but  having  once  accomplished  that 
primary  object,  in  his  later  work  of  mind  and  pen 
there  is  little  that  is  tangible  in  his  methods  as  dis 
tinguished  from  those  of  another.  He  studies  the 
evidence  profoundly  or  superficially,  according  to  his 
habit  of  study ;  forms  his  opinions  more  or  less  wisely, 
according  to  the  strength  of  his  judgment;  and  ex 
presses  them  in  language  diffuse  or  concise,  forcible 
and  graceful,  or  commonplace  and  awkward,  according 
to  his  natural  or  acquired  style. 

The  philosopher,  learned  in  mental  phenomena, 
may  classify  to  his  own  satisfaction  the  minds  and 
mind-workings  of  authors;  the  literary  critic  may 
form  comparisons  and  broad  generalizations  upon 
style.  There  are  as  many  variations  in  thoughts  as 
there  are  in  men,  in  style  as  there  are  in  writers; 
but  in  this  part  of  my  work  I  have  no  peculiar 
system  or  method,  and  I  suppose  that  other  authors 
have  none. 

My  system,  then,  applies  only  to  the  accumulation 
and  arrangement  of  evidence  upon  the  topics  of  which 
I  write,  and  consists  in  the  application  of  business 
methods  and  the  division  of  labor  to  those  ends.  By 
its  aid  I  have  attempted  to  accomplish  in  one  year 
what  would  require  ten  years  by  ordinary  methods; 
or  on  a  complicated  and  extensive  subject  to  collect 
practically  all  the  evidence,  when  by  ordinary  methods 
a  lifetime  of  toil  would  yield  only  a  part. 

To  illustrate:  Let  us  suppose  an  industrious  au 
thor,  determined  to  write  the  history  of  California,  at 
the  start  wholly  ignorant  of  his  subject.  He  easily 
learns  of  a  few  works  on  California,  and  having  pur 
chased  them  studies  their  contents,  making  notes  to 
aid  his  memory.  His  reading  directs  him  to  other 
titles,  and  he  seeks  the  corresponding  books  in  the 
libraries,  public  and  private,  of  the  city  where  he  re 
sides.  His  search  of  the  shelves  and  catalogues  of 


LII.  INC. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

PRELIMINARY  AND  SUPPLEMENTAL  VOLUMES. 

Periculosae  plenum  opus  aleae, 
Tractas;  et  incedis  per  ignes 
Suppositos  cineri  doloso.  Horace, 

As  I  have  elsewhere  remarked,  the  soul  and  cen 
tre  of  this  literary  undertaking  was  the  History  of  the 
Pacific  States;  the  Native  Races  being  preliminary,  and 
the  California  Pastoral,  Inter  Pocula,  Popular  Tribunals, 
Essays  and  Miscellany,  and  Literary  *  Industries  supple 
mental  thereto.  To  the  history  appears  a  biographi 
cal  section  entitled  Chronicles  of  the  Builders  of  the 
Commonwealth. 

Of  the  inception  and  execution  of  the  Native  Races 
I  give  elsewhere  the  full  history.  The  California 
Pastoral,  if  not  born  so  absolutely  of  necessity,  was 
none  the  less  a  legitimate  offspring.  In  the  history 
of  California  under  the  dominion  of  Mexico,  many 
of  the  most  charming  features  in  the  precincts  of 
home  and  minor  matters,  in  the  peculiarities  of  the 
people,  and  regarding  their  social  and  political  be 
havior  under  the  influence  of  their  isolation  and 
strange  environment,  were  necessarily  omitted.  Of 
that  remaining  from  this  superabundance  of  material, 
I  took  the  best,  and  weaving  with  it  some  antique 
foreign  facts  and  later  fancies  of  my  own,  I  embodied 
the  result  in  a  separate  volume,  and  in  a  more  attract 
ive  form  than  could  be  presented  in  condensed  history. 

In  like  manner  into  a  volume  entitled  California 
Inter  Pocula  were  thrown  a  multitude  of  episodes  and 
incidents  following  or  growing  out  of  the  gold  discov- 

l  C50) 


VIGILANCE  ARCHIVES.  659 

In  one  of  the  many  cases  for  damages  which  fol 
lowed  the  period  of  arbitrary  strangulations  and 
expatriations,  the  judge  ordered  the  records  of  the 
stranglers  brought  into  court.  Bluxome  obeyed  the 
summons  in  person,  but  nothing  was  seen  of  books  or 
papers  in  his  possession. 

"Where  are  the  documents  you  were  ordered  to 
bring?"  demanded  the  judge. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  replied  Bluxome. 

"Are  they  not  in  your  possession?" 

"No." 

"You  had  them?" 

"Yes-." 

"What  did  you  do  with  them?" 

"  I  delivered  them  to  Schenck." 

"Where  are  they  now?" 

"I  do  not  know." 

Dismissed,  Bluxome  lost  no  time  in  hurrying  to 
Schenck,  and  informing  him  of  what  had  happened, 
Scarcely  had  Schenck  passed  the  document  to  a  third 
person,  before  he  was  summoned  to  appear  in  court, 
arid  bring  with  him  the  required  papers.  After  tes 
tifying  as  Bluxome  had  done,  the  person  to  whom  he 
had  delivered  them  was  summoned  with  like  result ; 
and  so  on  until  all  concerned  were  heartily  tired  of  it 
and  so  let  the  matter  drop. 

It  was  a  great  triumph,  all  the  archives  of  the  first 
committee  safely  lodged  in  the  library,  and  it  proved 
a  great  advantage  to  me  in  opening  the  way  to  the 
books  and  papers  of  the  second  committee.  These 
were  in  the  keeping  of  Mr  Dempster,  to  be  held  in 
trust  by  him ;  and  while  he  would  gladly  have  placed 
them  all  in  my  hands  at  the  first,  he  felt  that  he 
could  not  do  so  without  the  permission  of  his  associates. 

I  found  it  less  difficult  after  this  to  obtain  dictations. 
Members  of  the  committee  of  1856  were  not  particu 
larly  pleased  that  I  should  have  so  much  better  facili 
ties  placed  before  me  for  writing  the  history  of  the 
first  committee  than  the  second. 


660  PRELIMINARY  AND  SUPPLEMENTAL  VOLUMES. 

Many  of  them  now  came  forward  of  their  own  ac 
cord  and  told  me  all  they  knew.  The  15th  of  Feb 
ruary,  1876,  Mr.  Coleman,  president  of  the  committee 
of  1856,  wrote  me,  I  being  then  at  Oakville,  that  he 
was  ready  to  give  me  data.  A  long  and  exceedingly 
valuable  narrative  of  all  the  events  from  the  begin- 

O 

ning  to  the  end  was'the  result.  It  was  in  fact,  a  his 
tory  of  the  movement  and  from  the  one  most  able  to 
furnish  it.  This  was  supplemented  by  a  no  less  val 
uable  and  even  more  thoughtful  and  philosophical  a 
document  by  Mr.  Dempster.  Likewise  from  Truett, 
Smiley,  Bluxome,  and  twenty  others,  I  obtained  in 
teresting  narratives. 

When  I  had  written  the  narrative  of  the  first  com 
mittee  and  had  fairly  begun  the  history  of  the  move 
ment  of  1856,  the  absurdity  of  the  position  assumed 
by  certain  members  struck  me  with  more  force  than 
ever,  and  I  was  determined,  if  possible,  to  have  the 
records  and  papers  of  the  second  committee.  I  went 
first  to  Coleman. 

"  I  want  all  the  archives  of  your  committee,"  I 
said.  "  It  is  the  irony  of  folly  to  compel  a  man,  at 
this  day,  to  make  brick  without  straw  when  you  have 
abundance  of  material  in  your  possession." 

"  Had  it  rested  with  me  you  should  have  had 
everything  long  ago,"  said  Mr.  Coleman. 

Then  I  went  to  Dempster. 

"  Did  I  stand  where  you  do,"  I  ventured  to  affirm, 
"  I  would  not  permit  the  history  of  the  vigilance  com 
mittee  to  be  written  while  those  books  and  papers 
were  unrevealed." 

"  What  would  you  do? "  he  asked. 

"  I  would  pay  no  attention,"  I  replied,  "  to  the 
wishes  of  those  few  wise  men  of  Gotham  who  would 
arbitrate  this  matter  between  eight  thousand  vigi- 
lants  and  their  posterity.  They  are  not  the  vigilance 
committee  ;  they  are  not  a  majority  of  the  executive 
committee." 

"  I  cannot  give  them  up  until  I  am  authorized  to 


CHAPTEK  XXVII. 

BODY  AND  MIND. 

Hard  students  are  commonly  troubled  with  gowts,  catarrhs,  rheums, 
cachexia,  bradypepsia,  bad  eyes,  stone,  and  collick,  crudities,  oppilations, 
vertigo,  winds,  consumptions,  and  all  such  diseases  as  come  by  overmuch 
sitting;  they  are  most  part  lean,  dry,  ill-colored ....  and  all  through  im 
moderate  pains  and  extraordinary  studies.  If  you  will  not  believe  the  truth 
of  this,  look  upon  the  great  Tostatus  and  Thomas  Aquinas'  works;  and  tell 
me  whether  those  men  took  pains. 

Burtons  Anatomy  of  Melancholy. 

AMONG  general  physiological  and  psychological  prin 
ciples  these  truths  are  now  regarded  elementary — that 
the  brain  is  indispensable  to  thought,  volition,  and 
feeling ;  that  the  brain  is  the  seat  of  thought,  of  in 
tellect ;  that  the  brain  being  affected  by  the  blood, 
the  mind  is  influenced  by  the  quality  or  condition  of 
the  blood ;  that  with  the  quickening  of  cerebral  circu 
lation  thoughts,  feelings,  and  volitions  are  quickened, 
even  up  to  the  pitch  sometimes  of  vehement  mental 
excitement,  or  delirium,  and  that  the  quality  of  the 
blood  depends  upon  food,  air,  exercise,  and  rest. 

Under  great  mental  strain  blood  of  the  best  qual 
ity,  pure,  rich,  and  plentiful  may  be  drawn  from  the 
muscles,  to  the  detriment  of  the  muscular  system, 
to  meet  the  pressing  emergencies  of  the  brain  and  of 
the  nervous  system ;  and  vice  versa  excessive  physical 
exertion  draws  from  the  mental  faculties  nourishment 
rightly  belonging  to  them.  Therefore  both  mind  and 
muscle  are  alike  dependent  not  less  upon  food  than 
upon  the  blood-purifying  organs,  lungs,  liver ,  intes 
tines,  and  the  rest. 

The  influence  of  the  mind  upon  the  body,  through 
its  three-fold  states  of  intellect,  emotion,  and  volition, 
is  no  less  great  than  the  influence  of  the  body  upon 

(664) 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

EXPEDITIONS  TO  MEXICO. 

By  the  mess,  ere  these  eyes  of  mine  take  themselves  to  slomber,  ay '11  do 
gud  service,  or  ay'll  lig  i'  the  grund  for  it;  ay,  or  go  to  death. 

King  Henry  the  Fifth. 

HAVING  read  and  written  so  much  about  Mexico, 
it  was  but  natural  that  I  should  wish  to  go  there.  I 
had  completed  the  history  of  all  that  region,  with 
abundance  of  material,  down  to  the  year  1800,  and  for 
the  present  century  I  knew  that  there  existed  houses 
full  of  information  which  I  did  not  possess. 

Accordingly  on  the  1st  day  of  September,  1883,  I 
set  out,  accompanied  by  my  daughter  and  a  Mexican 
servant,  for  the  great  city  of  the  table-land,  proceed 
ing  via  San  Antonio  and  Laredo,  Texas.  I  took 
copious  notes  of  everything  I  encountered,  the  table 
spread  of  frijoles,  tortillas,  olla  podrida,  and  the  rest, 
cooked  with  garlic  and  onions  in  rancid  oil,  sending 
forth  a  stygian  smell  not  at  all  appetizing ;  the  muddy 
Rio  Bravo,  now  angry  and  swollen  with  late  rains, 
which  we  had  to  cross  in  a  scow  at  the  peril  of  our 
lives ;  the  general  and  universal  dirtiness  pervading 
people,  houses,  and  streets ;  the  currency,  being  mostly 
silver,  and  at  a  discount  of  about  twenty -five  per  cent 
below  United  States  money ;  the  mixed  Spanish 
and  Indian  population  and  architecture,  the  former 
of  all  shades  of  color  and  beastliness,  most  of  the 
people  being  ugly  looking,  and  many  of  them  deformed 
and  absolutely  hideous,  the  latter  of  every  grade, 
from  the  Andalusian  dwelling  of  stone  or  adobe, 
surrounding  a  court,  to  the  suburban  hut  of  sticks  and 
straw  ;  the  soil,  climate,  and  resources  of  the  country  ; 


706  EXPEDITIONS  TO  MEXICO. 

of  two  stories,  with  colonnades,  arched,  perhaps,  in 
masonry  below  and  roofed  with  wooden  rafters  above. 
The  floors  are  usually  of  burnt-clay  tiles,  and  bare. 
Outside  run  narrow  stone  sidewalks,  frequently  worn 
hollow  by  centuries  of  use.  Though  everywhere  with 
plain  and  often  forbidding  exteriors,  there  are  dwell 
ings  in  the  chief  cities  with  interiors  of  oriental  luxury 
and  splendor. 

Land  and  vegetation  and  cultivation  improve  as 
the  central  and  southern  portions  of  the  republic  are 
reached.  Here  are  seen  vast  stretches  as  fertile  and 
beautiful  as  any  in  the  world,  producing  three  crops  a 
year  by  irrigation  and  attention ;  and  places  are  found 
of  pronounced  character,  displaying  marked  individu 
ality,  such  as  Mexico  City,  Vera  Cruz,  Queretaro, 
Oajaca,  Guadalajara,  and  others,  some  owing  their 
origin  to  missionary  convents,  some  to  the  will  of  a 
rich  landholder,  others  to  the  course  of  trade.  Elegant 
villas  can  be  seen  in  the  suburban  towns  of  the  capital, 
but  there  is  scarcely  in  the  republic  what  would  be 
known  in  the  United  States  as  a  country-seat  or  a 
farm-house. 

Notwithstanding  the  monotony,  the  observer  finds 
much  that  is  exceedingly  picturesque.  The  towns 
and  the  country,  the  people  and  their  surroundings, 
all  present  studies.  Here  is  foliage  filled  with  blos 
soms  and  loaded  with  fruit ;  here  are  fragrant  flowers 
and  fantastic  parasites,  palms,  orange  and  lemon  trees, 
and  a  thousand  other  offshoots  of  redundant  nature — 
this  for  the  tierra  caliente,  and  also  for  the  footland 
cities ;  and  for  the  table-lands,  colored  hills  and  plains 
covered  with  a  peculiar  vegetation. 

The  statuesque  is  everywhere.  Over  thousands  of 
leagues  you  may  go  and  see  ten  thousand  weird  and 
fantastic  images  in  the  palm  and  the  cactus,  in  the 
mirage  and  in  the  mountain.  The  southern  sierras 
are  grand,  and  of  every  hue  and  height  and  contour. 

In  the  cities  the  churches  stand  conspicuous,  and  on 
the  streets  are  figures  of  every  form  and  pose.  Drive 


THE  STATUESQUE.  707 

into  any  town  in  any  hour  of  the  day  or  night,  be  it 
in  scorching  summer  or  freezing  winter,  and  standing 
by  the  roadside  and  in  the  doorways  are  grim  figures 
wrapped  in  serapes  and  rebozos,  motionless  and  silent, 
but  always  graceful  and  picturesque.  You  see  them 
when  you  come  and  when  you  go,  as  if  they  had 
stood  there  since  Mexico  was  made,  and  were  now 
waiting  for  the  last  trump  to  sound. 

In  travelling  far  by  diligencia,  race  colors  approach 
each  other,  the  dark  skin  being  lightened  and  the  light 
skin  darkened  by  dirt.  I  sit  on  top  behind  the  drivers, 
for  there  are  two,  the  cochero  and  his  deputy,  who 
are  wholly  oblivious  of  my  presence  until  a  few  reales 
to  each  make  me  known  to  them.  So  stationed,  and 
watching  their  movements  for  three  days,  having  little 
else  to  do  but  to  hold  on  and  keep  my  face  from  blis 
tering,  I  come  to  know  them  well,  and  to  be  able  to 
count  upon  my  fingers  their  distinguishing  character 
istics. 

The  cochero  was  a  small  man,  weighing  but  little 
over  one  hundred  pounds,  and  measuring  not  over  five 
feet  four,  but  his  muscles  were  steel.  He  wore  white 
cotton  breeches,  leathern  leggings,  untanned  leather 
boots,  white  cotton  jacket,  slouched  straw  sombrero 
with  the  orthodox  four  dents  in  the  high-pointed 
crown,  and  a  colored  hankerchief  round  his  neck  or 
waist.  He  was  the  most  diabolically  happy  fellow  I 
ever  met ;  he  used  to  find  vent  for  his  high  spirits  in 
cutting  with  his  whip  at  the  passing  cart-mules  and 
their  drivers.  Yet  his  voice  was  low  and  plaintive, 
as  gentle  as  that  of  any  woman,  scarcely  above  a 
whisper  even  when  issuing  orders  to  his  assistant  and 
stablemen,  of  which  there  were  usually  half  a  score  in 
attendance  at  the  stations.  His  mules  he  would  curse 
gently  and  with  a  smile. 

His  wife  rode  with  him  for  a  day  and  a  night.  She 
had  a  child  in  her  arms.  The  night  was  cold — the 
early  morning  specially  so.  A  gown  each,  one  thick- 


724  EXPEDITIONS  TO  MEXICO. 

A  striking  feature  is  its  melancholy  strain.  Even 
the  songs  and  street  cries  and  strains  of  laughter  are 
in  a  minor  key.  Listen  to  the  plaintive  voice  of  the 
people  in  common  conversation,  and  you  would  im 
agine  them  in  conference  over  a  dying  comrade! 

The  Mexican  gambles  upon  instinct,  if  such  a  term 
has  any  meaning.  He  has  in  him  superstition  enough 
to  believe  in  luck;  he  will  not  work;  he  frequently  is 
sorely  in  need  of  money ;  how  else  is  he  to  get  it  ? 

Notwithstanding  the  laws  existing  in  the  capital, 
there  is  gambling  for  all  grades,  tables  on  which  noth 
ing  but  copper  is  seen,  others  of  silver  with  some 
gold,  and  still  others  where  gold  alone  is  used,  the 
lowest  bet  here  allowed  being  an  ounce. 

A  law  of  1828  closed  many  of  the  gambling-houses, 
throwing  many  professional  gamblers  out  of  employ 
ment  and  depriving  thousands  of  their  accustomed 
amusement.  The  proceeding  showed  at  once  the 
material  strength  of  the  government  able  to  enforce 
so  unpopular  a  hieasure,  and  the  moral  strength  of 
the  rulers,  who  believed  gambling  to  be  iniquitous 
and  pernicious.  Nevertheless,  the  inherent  and  old- 
time  passion  was  not  thus  to  be  quenched.  As  in 
religion,  there  was  much  comfort  in  it.  So  the  fol 
lowing  year  we  find  written:  "From  the  highest  to 
the  lowest,  all  gamble;  and  it  is  no  uncommon  thing 
to  see  the  senators,  and  even  higher  officers,  in  the 
cockpit  or  at  the  gaming-table  betting  and  staking 
their  money  against  the  half-clothed  laborer."  Meas 
ures  have  since  been  frequently  taken  to  diminish  the 
evil,  but  with  little  effect. 

In  some  countries  the  business  of  pawnbroker  is 
deemed  disgraceful  as  well  as  pernicious;  but  in  Mex 
ico  it  is,  under  government  auspices,  a  source  of  gov 
ernment  revenue,  and  the  management  of  the  Monte 
de  Piedad,  as  it  is  called,  is  confided  to  a  person  of 
the  first  integrity.  It  receives  whatever  effects  the 
poor  people  can  bring,  loans  them  a  large  percentage 


SOME  CHARACTERISTICS.  731 

made  from  the  crosses  of  all  the  saints,  not  to  men 
tion  numberless  beggars  whose  only  capital  is  some 
deformity.  And  at  all  times  men,  women,  and  chil 
dren  of  all  grades  are  selling  lottery -tickets.  After 
noon  the  men  of  honey-cakes  and  cheese  and  honey 
appear;  the  dulce  men,  Caramelos  de  esperma!  boca- 
dillo  de  coco!  Tortillas  de  cuajada!  come  on  toward 
night ;  then  nuts,  and  "  Ducks,  O  my  soul,  hot 
ducks ! "  There  are  many  more  cries  than  these, 
some  of  late  origin,  though  the  "  new  development " 
little  changes  the  native  Mexican  in  this  or  many 
other  respects.  Whenever  a  railroad  train  pulls  up 
at  a  station  it  is  immediately  surrounded  by  sellers  of 
everything  eatable  and  drinkable,  whose  babel  of  cries 
is  irritating  to  those  not  disposed  to  look  on  the 
amusing  side  of  it. 

Speaking  of  lying  Mexicans — and  there  are  few  of 
them  who  are  not  proficient  in  the  art — my  man  Fri 
day,  whom  I  took  from  San  Francisco,  is  deserving 
of  special  mention.  He  did  not  lie  for  profit,  but 
from  principle.  I  thought  Cerruti  a  good  liar,  but 
the  Italian  was  a  novice  beside  this  Mexican.  His 
mendacity  took  the  direction  of  omniscience.  What 
ever  he  wished  to  be  was ;  whatever  I  wished  to  know 
I  asked  him — then  went  and  found  out  for  myself. 
The  governor  was  not  in  town  if  my  fellow  did  not 
feel  like  going  out.  Or  if  my  fellow  desired  time  for 
his  own  pleasure,  nothing  can  be  done  on  a  holiday, 
he  would  demurely  observe. 

Ask  the  average  Mexican  anything,  and  he  always 
has  an  answer  ready ;  there  is  nothing  he  does  not 
know.  He  will  spin  you  off  a  string  of  lies  as  natur 
ally  and  as  gracefully  as  a  duck  takes  to  water.  And 
if  you  are  wise,  you  will  keep  your  temper;  and  if 
you  want  anything  out  of  him,  pretend  to  believe  him, 
for  if  you  tell  him  he  lies,  he  only  shrugs  his  shoulder, 
as  much  as  to  say,  "What  else  could  you  expect?" 
As  well  find  fault  with  a  mustang  for  bucking,  as  with 
a  Mexican  for  lying. 


734  EXPEDITIONS  TO  MEXICO. 

the  recipient  to  name  time  and  place  for  an  interview. 

"  I  cannot  see  why  you  want  to  make  the  acquain 
tance  of  these  people,"  said  Morgan,  the  American 
minister,  to  me  one  day.  "If  it  is  to  be  entertained 
by  them,  you  will  be  disappointed.  Here  am  I  these 
three  or  four  years  representing  the  great  American 
republic,  and  they  pay  not  the  slightest  attention  to 
me.  Aside  from  official  intercourse  with  the  minister 
of  foreign  relations,  there  is  nothing  between  us. 
When  I  came,  the  chief  officials  called  when  I  was 
out  and  left  their  card ;  I  returned  the  call  when  they 
were  out  and  left  my  card,  and  that  was  the  end  of 
it." 

" My  dear  sir,"  I  said,  "it  is  the  last  thing  on  earth 
I  desire — to  be  entertained  by  these  or  any  other 
people.  I  come  to  Mexico  for  a  far  different  purpose. 
Still,  if  I  am  so  let  alone  as  to  feel  slighted,  it  will  be 
for  the  first  time  in  my  life." 

The  fact  is,  Mr  Morgan  could  not  understand  what 
it  was  I  wanted  in  Mexico ;  nevertheless,  he  was  al 
ways  cordial  and  accommodating. 

For  about  two  weeks  my  time  was  chiefly  occupied 
in  making  and  receiving  calls.  One  of  the  first  to 
visit  me  was  Ygnacio  M.  Altamirano,  one  of  the  chief 
literary  men  in  Mexico,  who  boasts  his  pure  Aztec 
blood  uncontaminated  by  any  European  intermixture. 
In  form  he  is  well  proportioned,  a  little  below  medium 
height,  features  clear-cut  and  of  pronounced  type, 
bright,  black  eyes,  and  skin  not  very  dark,  intellect 
brilliant,  and  tongue  fluent  of  speech. 

Altamirano  divided  the  leading  literary  honors  of 
the  capital  with  Alfredo  Chavero,  who  was  also  quite 
talented.  Altamirano  wrote  for  La  Libertad,  La  Re- 
publica,  and  El  Diario  del  Hogar  ;  any  paper  was  glad 
to  get  anything  from  Chavero.  These  men  showed 
me  every  attention,  and  introduced  me  to  the  mem 
bers  of  the  Sociedad  de  Geografia  y  Estatistica,  at  a 
meeting  called  specially  for  that  purpose. 

Another  very  agreeable  litterateur  was  Ireneo  Paz, 


CORT13Z  AND  DIAZ.  739 

museum,  and  a  host  of  others.  Icazbalceta  is  more 
bibliographer  than  writer;  he  cleans  the  pages  of  his 
old  books,  restores  lost  and  faded  cuts  with  pen  and 
ink,  and  he  even  set  up  with  his  own  hands  the  type 
for  one  of  his  reprints.  Manuel  Romero  Rubio, 
father-in-law  of  the  late  president,  introduced  me  to 
Porfirio  Diaz,  and  he  to  President  Gonzalez.  From 
General  Diaz,  the  foremost  man  in  the  republic,  I 
took  a  two  weeks'  dictation,  employing  two  stenogra 
phers,  and  yielding  400  pages  of  manuscript.  Natu 
rally,  during  this  time,  and  subsequently,  I  became 
well  acquainted  with  the  Diaz  family,  dining  fre 
quently  there,  and  with  the  father  of  the  charming 
wife  of  the  president,  whose  home  was  one  of  the  most 
elegant  in  the  capital. 

Romero  Rubio,  then  president  of  the  senate,  for 
merly  minister  of  foreign  affairs,  and  subsequently 
minister  under  Diaz,  is  a  fine  specimen  of  a  wealthy 
and  aristocratic  Mexican;  grave  and  somewhat  dis 
tant  in  his  demeanor,  yet  kind  and  cordial  among 
friends,  and  punctilious  in  the  performance  of  every 
duty,  public  and  private. 

Porfirio  Diaz  appears  more  American  than  Mexi 
can.  In  the  hall  of  the  municipality  and  district  of 
Mexico  are  portraits  of  all  the  rulers,  regal  and  re 
publican,  from  Cortes  to  Diaz.  And  between  the 
first  and  the  last  are  some  points  of  resemblance. 
Cortes  made  the  first  conquest,  Diaz  the  last.  The 
former  chose  Oajaca  as  his  home;  the  latter  was  born 
there.  In  this  portrait  of  Cortes,  the  finest  I  have 
seen,  the  conqueror  is  represented  as  quite  old,  toward 
the  end  of  life,  when  the  pride  of  gratified  ambition 
had  been  somewhat  obliterated  by  the  machinations 
of  enemies,  the  neglect  of  his  sovereign,  and  the 
jealousy  of  courtiers.  There  is  present  less  of  the 
strong  man  triumphant  than  of  the  strong  man 
humiliated.  Diaz  has  had  his  triumphs;  perhaps  his 
humiliations  are  yet  to  come.  Few  great  men  escape 
them  toward  the  end  of  their  career;  indeed  they 


750  EXPEDITIONS  TO  MEXICO. 

V    - 

though  smaller  than  the  one  in  Mexico,  accounted 
richer  within. 

But  for  all  this,  famous,  squalid  little  Cholula,  ac 
cording  to  the  population,  outdoes  Puebla.  There  is 
the  little  church  with  its  two  towers  and  large  bells 
on  the  historic  hill,  rusty  without,  but  elaborately 
gilded  within,  and  the  large  church  amidst  the  houses 
below,  near  where  the  worshippers  congregate  to  see 
the  bull-fight  after  service,  and  one  to  the  right  and 
another  to  the  left,  and  half  a  dozen  more  on  every 
side,  the  (Simultaneous  ringing  of  whose  bells  at  the 
hour  of  blazing,  tropical  afterglow  might  lead  one  to 
suppose  the  world  to  be  on  fire.  This  must  indeed 
have  been  a  foul  spot  of  Satan's  to  require  such  long 
and  elaborate  cleansing ;  for  hereabout  once  stood  no 
less  than  four  hundred  heathen  temples  ;  but  I  would 
rather  see  restored  and  preserved  some  of  those 
architectural  monuments,  albeit  in  good  truth  tem 
ples  of  Satan,  which  capped  this  pyramid  in  aboriginal 
times,  than  a  thousand  of  the  earth-bestrewed  edifices 
reared  to  his  confounding  at  the  cost  of  pinched 
toilers. 

As  I  thus  stood,  I  fancied  I  could  see  marching 
through  the  same  long  white,  radiating  streets 
the  ancient  processions  with  their  dismal  chant  and 
clang  of  instruments,  coming  hither  from  all  direc 
tions  to  the  sacrifice.  I  fancied  I  could  see  the 
bodies  of  the  victims  tumbled  over  the  steeps  as 
the  blood-besmeared  priests  held  aloft  the  palpitating 
heart,  while  all  the  people  raised  their  voices  in  loud 
hosannas.  And  I  could  easily  imagine  the  good  god 
Quetzalcoatl  here  taking  leave  of  his  people,  even  as 
did  Christ,  promising  meantime  to  return  with  new 
and  celestial  benefits. 

In  the  Puebla  state  library,  before  mentioned,  is  a 
volume  of  original  letters  of  Morelos,  and  several 
other  volumes  of  valuable  documents  relating  to  the 
days  of  independence,  1810-21.  General  documents 
run  from  1764  to  1858.  There  are  two  volumes  of 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

TOWARD  THE  END. 

Careless  of  censure,  nor  too  fond  of  fame; 
Still  pleased  to  praise,  yet  not  afraid  to  blame ; 
Averse  alike  to  natter,  or  offend; 
Not  free  from  faults,  nor  yet  too  vain  to  mend. 

Pope. 

I  had  hoped  to  close  my  library  to  general  work, 
and  dismiss  my  assistants  by  January  1,  1887.  I 
had  yet  several  years  of  work  to  do  myself,  in  any 
event,  but  I  thought  if  I  could  get  rid  of  the  heavy 
library  outlay  of  one  or  two  thousand  dollars  a 
month,  I  should  feel  more  inclined  to  take  life  easier, 
with  less  nervous  haste  and  strain  in  my  work. 

Several  causes  combined  to  prevent  this.  As  is 
usually  the  case,  the  completion  of  my  history  con 
sumed  more  time  than  I  had  anticipated,  the  neces 
sary  rewriting  and  revision,  not  to  mention  numberless 
delays  growing  out  of  the  cares  and  vicissitudes  of 
business,  being  beyond  calculation.  The  truth  is,  in 
looking  back  upon  my  life  and  its  labors,  I  cannot  but 
feel  that  I  never  have  had  a  full  and  fair  opportunity 
to  do  my  best,  to  do  as  good  work  as  I  am  capable  of 
doing,  certainly  not  as  finished  work  as  I  might  do 
with  less  of  it  and  more  time  to  devote  to  it,  with 
fewer  cares,  fewer  interruptions.  I  have  often  won 
dered  what  I  might  do  were  I  not  forced  to  "write 
history  on  horseback,"  as  General  Vallejo  terms  it. 
On  the  other  hand,  I  have  had  much  to  be  thank 
ful  for,  and  can  only  submit  my  work  to  the  world 
for  what  it  is  worth.  Again,  it  was  found  to  be  an 
absolute  necessity  for  the  proper  completion  of  my 
historical  series  to  provide  a  place  for  the  many  biog- 

(752) 


762  TOWARD  THE  END. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  find  anywhere  pleasanter  peo 
ple,  or  a  more  intelligent  or  refined  society  than  at 
Denver.  I  shall  never  forget  the  kindness  of  Doctor 
Bancroft,  governors  Pitkin,  Grant,  and  Routt,  and 
judges  Stone,  Bennett,  Beck,  and  Helm. 

Colorado  was  at  this  time  in  a  very  prosperous  con 
dition,  and  the  people  were  justly  proud  of  their  state, 
of  its  history,  its  resources,  and  its  possibilities.  By 
supplying  myself  pretty  freely  with  help  in  the  form 
of  stenographers  and  statisticians,  I  secured  the  ex 
periences  of  several  hundred  of  those  who  had  had 
the  most  to  do  in  making  the  early  history  of  this 
region.  Among  the  manuscripts  thus  resulting  was 
one  which  must  ever  constitute  the  corner-stones  of 
Colorado  history.  Nearly  two  months  were  occupied 
in  writing  it,  and  the  work  on  it  was  done  in  this  way: 
Taking  a  full  file  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  News,  the 
first  journal  published  in  the  country  and  still  running, 
I  sat  down  before  it  with  a  stenographer  and  its  first 
editor,  who,  while  I  questioned  and  commented,  told 
the  history  of  the  state,  turning  over  the  leaves  of  the 
newspaper  to  refresh  his  memory,  and  give  him  the 
desired  information. 

Judge  Stone's  ideas  and  experiences  form  a  very 
interesting  historical  manuscript.  He  assured  me 
that  the  topography  of  Colorado  was  in  his  mind's 
eye  as  clear  as  if  seen  at  one  view  from  the  corner  of 
a  cloud ;  and  I  found  his  knowledge  of  political  and 
commercial  affairs,  and  the  resources  and  industries 
of  the  state  no  less  lucid  and  interesting. 

While  my  family  were  at  Denver,  enjoying  the 
generous  hospitality  of  the  good  people  of  the  place,  I 
spent  a  fortnight  at  Cheyenne,  going  through  files  of 
newspapers,  and  writing  out  the  experiences  of  the 
prominent  men.  In  this  and  subsequent  labors  in  re 
lation  to  the  history  of  Wyoming  I  was  greatly 
assisted  by  John  Slaughter,  territorial  librarian,  A. 
S.  Mercer,  of  the  Live  Stock  Journal,  John  W.  Hoyt, 
J.  M.  Carey,  J.  R.  Whitehead,  F.  J.  Stanton,  E.  S. 


WYOMING  AND  NEW  MEXICO.  763 

N".  Morgan  territorial  secretary,  A.  T.  Babbitt,  Thos. 
Sturgis,  W.  W.  Corlett,  and  others.  Then  at 
Laramie  were  S.  W.  Downey  and  T.  H.  Hayford ; 
at  Lander,  N.  Baldwin  and  H.  G.  Nickerson ;  not  to 
mention  the  commanding  officers  of  the  military  at 
forts  Russell,  Steele,  Laramie,  McKinney,  and 
Bridger. 

Part  of  the  winter  of  1884-5  I  spent  in  New 
Mexico,  where  I  had  interviews  with  most  of  the 
leading  men,  and  obtained  a  large  mass  of  material 
which  was  an  absolute  necessity  to  my  work.  At 
Santa  Fe  I  examined  the  archives  thoroughly,  and 
engaged  Samuel  Ellison,  the  keeper,  to  go  through 
them  and  make  extracts  from  some,  and  complete 
copies  of  all  of  the  important  papers  and  manuscripts. 
After  a  time,  however,  finding  the  task  too  slow  and 
irksome  for  him,  being  an  old  man  and  somewhat 
averse  to  labor,  he  finally  consented,  contrary  to  the 
regulations,  but  greatly  to  my  satisfaction,  to  send  to 
me  in  San  Francisco  in  bundles,  by  express,  a  portion 
at  a  time,  of  such  material  that  I  wanted  copied,  that 
I  might  have  the  work  done  in  my  library. 

I  cannot  refrain  from  mentioning,  among  those  who 
rendered  me  valuable  assistance  at  Santa  Fe,  the 
names  of  C.  B.  Hayward,  W.  G.  Bitch,  Francis 
Downs,  Archbishop  Lamy,  Defouri,  Prince,  Thayer, 
Fiske,  Phillips,  and  the  Chaves ;  at  Albuquerque  and 
Taos,  the  Armijos  and  the  Valdez ;  and  at  Las 
Graces,  Cunniffe  and  Van  Patten. 

I  cannot  mention  in  this  volume  a  hundredth  part 
of  the  journeys  made,  the  people  seen,  and  the  work 
done  in  connection  with  the  labors  of  over  a  quarter 
of  a  century,  collecting  material  and  writing  history, 
but  enough  has  been  presented  to  give  the  reader 
some  faint  conception  of  the  time,  labor,  and  money 
necessary  for  such  an  historical  undertaking. 

Referring  once  more  to  my  method  of  writing  his- 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

BURNED  OUT! 

Mercury.  "  What's  best  for  us  to  do  then  to  get  safe  across  ?" 
Charon.  "I'll  tell  you.  You  must  all  strip  before  you  get  in,  and  leave 
all  those  encumbrances  on  shore;  and  even  then  the  boat  will  scarce  hold 
you  all.  And  you  take  care,  Mercury,  that  no  soul  is  admitted  that  is  not 
in  light  marching  order,  and  who  has  not  left  all  his  encumbrances,  as  I  say, 
behind.  Just  stand  at  the  gang-way  and  overhaul  them,  and  don't  let  them 
get  in  till  they've  stripped.  Lucian. 

Here  was  a  pretty  how-do-you-do  !  While  I  was 
buying  farms  and  building  houses  in  San  Diego,  and 
dreaming  of  a  short  period  of  repose  on  this  earth 
before  being  called  upon  to  make  once  more  an  inte 
gral  part  of  it,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  I  was 
struck  down,  as  if  by  a  thunderbolt  from  heaven. 

For  twenty  years  past  I  had  been  more  than  ordi 
narily  interested  in  this  southern  extremity  of  the 
state,  with  its  soft  sunshine  and  beautiful  bay,  the 
only  break  in  the  California  coast-line  south  of  San 
Francisco  that  could  be  properly  called  a  harbor,  and 
I  had  chipped  in  from  time  to  time  a  few  thousands 
for  lots  and  blocks,  until  satisfied  that  I  had  enough, 
when  the  great  commercial  metropolis  of  the  south 
should  arise  upon  the  spot,  to  ruin  all  my  children. 

Many  times  before  this  I  had  temporarily  sought 
shelter  for  myself  and  family  from  the  cold  winds  and 
fogs  of  San  Francisco,  often  in  the  Napa  country,  and 
many  times  in  the  Ojai  valley,  and  elsewhere.  Then 
I  wondered  if  there  was  not  some  place  more  accessi 
ble  to  my  work,  which  would  answer  the  purpose  as 
well. 

Ever  since  18561  had  been  gazing  on  the  high  hills 
back  of  Oakland  and  Berkeley,  wondering  what  was 
on  the  other  side;  and  one  day  I  said  I  will  go  and 

LIT.  IND.    49. 


772  BURNED  OUT  I 

were  of  farm  life ;  my  childhood  home  had  been  there, 
and  if  there  were  any  rest  and  recuperation  for  me  on 
earth  I  was  sure  it  would  be  under  like  conditions. 
My  work  was  nearly  done.  I  had  no  further  desire 
to  mingle  with  the  affairs  of  the  world.  I  was  con 
tent  with  what  I  had  accomplished ;  or  at  least  all  I 
could  do  I  had  done,  and  I  was  sure  that  in  no  way 
could  I  better  become  young  again  than  in  spending 
much  time  with  my  little  ones,  in  teaching  them  how 
to  work  and  be  useful,  as  my  devoted  parents  had 
taught  me. 

It  was  on  the  30th  of  April,  1886,  that  I  was 
standing  on  the  steps  of  the  Florence  hotel,  at  San 
Diego,  when  my  wife  drove  up  in  her  phaeton  and 
handed  me  a  telegram.  "  They  said  it  was  impor 
tant,"  she  remarked,  and  eyed  me  earnestly  as  I 
opened  and  read  it.  "What  is  it?"  she  asked.  "Is 
it  bad?"  "About  as  bad  as  can  be,"  I  replied.  It 
was  from  Mr  N.  J.  Stone,  manager  of  the  History 
department  of  the  business,  and  it  read,  "Store  burn 
ing.  Little  hope  of  saving  it."  Half  an  hour  later 
came  another  despatch,  saying  that  nothing  was  saved 
but  the  account  books. 

The  full  effect  of  this  calamity  flashed  through  my 
brain  on  the  instant :  my  beautiful  building,  its  lofts 
filled  to  overflowing  with  costly  merchandise,  all  gone, 
the  results  of  thirty  years  of  labor  and  economy,  of 
headaches  and  heart-aches,  eaten  up  by  fire  in  an 
hour  I  I  say  the  full  effect  of  it  was  upon  me ;  yet 
the  blow — though  it  felled  me,  seemed  to  strike  softly, 
as  if  coming  from  a  gloved  hand,  I  was  so  powerless 
to  oppose  it.  I  continued  the  duties  of  the  day 
as  usual.  I  was  then  building  for  my  wife  a  summer 
residence  overlooking  the  charming  bay;  but  many 
days  of  sorrow  and  anguish  were  in  store  for  me  by 
reason  of  this  infernal  fire. 

In  this  same  hotel,  seven  months  before,  I  had  read 
of  the  Crocker  fire,  a  similar  catastrophe  happening 
to  a  house  of  like  business  to  ours.  And  I  then 


WHOLESALE  DESTRUCTION.  773 

thought,  "this  might  as  well  have  been  Bancroft, 
but  how  different  the  result  to  me  and  hundreds  of 
others."  As  La  Rochefoucauld  says :  "Nous  avous 
tous  assez  de  force  pour  supporter  les  maux  d'autrui." 
We  are  all  strong  enough  to  endure  the  misfortunes 
of  others.  And  now  it  was  indeed  Bancroft,  and  all 
their  fine  establishment,  the  largest  and  finest  in 
western  America,  swept  away  in  the  midst  of  a 
desperate  struggle  to  properly  place  my  histories  upon 
the  market.  Twenty  volumes  had  been  issued,  and 
the  firm  was  still  $200,000  behind  on  the  enterprise. 
But  it  was  gaining.  Daylight  shone  as  through  a 
tunnel  in  the  distance ;  the  last  month's  business  had 
been  the  most  encouraging  of  all;  when  suddenly, 
office,  stock,  papers,  correspondence,  printing-presses, 
type  and  plates,  and  the  vast  book-bindery,  filled  with 
sheets  and  books  in  every  stage  of  binding,  were 
blotted  out,  as  if  seized  by  Satan  and  hurled  into  the 
jaws  of  hell.  There  was  not  a  book  left;  there  was 
not  a  volume  of  history  saved;  nine  volumes  of 
history  plates  were  destroyed,  besides  a  dozen  other 
volumes  of  plates ;  two  car  loads  of  history  paper  had 
just  come  in,  and  12,000  bound  volumes  were  de 
voured  by  the  flames.  There  was  the  enterprise  left, 
and  a  dozen  volumes  of  the  history  plates  in  the 
library  basement,  and  that  was  all. 

The  loss  thus  in  a  moment,  of  over  half  a  million 
of  dollars,  above  all  that  any  policies  of  insurance 
would  cover,  was  not  the  worst  of  it.  Our  facilities 
for  work  were  gone,  machinery  destroyed,  and  business 
connections  suddenly  snapped ;  at  noon  with  one  of 
the  largest  stocks  in  America,  at  night  with  nothing 
to  sell !  I  went  down  to  the  train,  stowed  myself  away 
in  a  sleeper,  and  carne  to  San  Francisco,  knowing  I 
had  to  face  the  brunt  of  it,  and  endure  the  long-drawn 
agony  of  the  catastrophe.  My  daughter  was  with 
me.  Friends  and  sympathizers  met  me  at  Martinez. 
It  was  Sunday  when  I  arrived  and  went  to  my 
city  quarters.  I  kept  my  room  until  Tuesday; 


IN  NEW  AND  ELEGANT  QUARTERS.  797 

dation  that  it  had  not  grown  and  flourished,  and  that 
as  a  rule  in  ever-increasing  proportions.  I  had  for 
it  an  affection  outside  of  any  mercenary  interest. 
Through  good  and  evil  times  it  had  stood  bravely  by 
me,  by  my  family,  my  history,  my  associates,  and 
employes,  and  I  could  not  desert  it  now.  I  could 
not  see  it  die  or  go  to  the  dogs  without  an  effort  to 
save  it;  for  I  felt  that  such  would  be  its  fate  if  it 
neglected  the  opportunity  to  go  back  to  its  old  local 
ity,  and  regain  somewhat  of  its  old  power  and  pres 
tige.  The  country  was  rapidly  going  forward.  There 
must  soon  be  a  first-class  bookstore  in  San  Francisco. 
There  was  none  such  now,  and  if  ours  did  not  step  to 
the  front  and  assume  that  position,  some  other  one 
would.  Immediately  after  the  fire  the  remarks  were 
common,  "It  is  a  public  loss";  "We  have  nowhere, 
now,  to  go  for  our  books";  "Your  store  was  not 
appreciated  until  it  was  gone." 

My  family  were  now  all  well  provided  for,  through 
the  rise  of  real  estate  in  San  Diego.  What  I  had  be 
sides  need  not  affect  them  one  way  or  the  other.  I 
felt  that  I  had  the  right  to  risk  it  in  a  good  cause — 
every  dollar  of  it,  and  my  life  in  addition,  if  I  so 
chose.  After  all,  it  was  chiefly  a  question  of  health 
and  endurance.  I  determined  to  try  it;  once  more  I 
would  adventure,  and  succeed  or  sink  all. 

So  I  laid  my  plans  accordingly,  and  in  company 
with  W.  B.  Bancroft,  Mr  Colley,  and  Mr  Borland,  all 
formerly  connected  with  the  original  house  of  H.  H. 
Bancroft  and  Company,  I  organized  and  incorporated 
The  Bancroft  Company,  and  moved  the  old  business 
back  upon  the  old  site,  but  into  new  and  elegant 
quarters.  Behold  the  new  creation  1  Once  more 
we  had  a  bookstore,  one  second  to  none  in  all  this 
western  world — an  establishment  which  was  a  daily 
pride  and  pleasure,  not  so  widely  spread  as  the  old 
one,  but  in  many  respects  better  conditioned.  Above 
all,  we  were  determined  to  popularize  it,  and  place  it 
in  many  respects  upon  a  higher  plane  than  ever  it 
had  before  enjoyed.  And  we  succeeded. 


798  THE  HISTORY  COMPANY  AND  THE  BANCROFT  COMPANY. 

The  management  of  The  Bancroft  Company  was 
placed  in  the  hands  of  my  nephew,  W.  B.  Bancroft, 
wrho  had  been  well  instructed  in  the  business,  and  had 
ever  been  loyal  to  it.  At  the  time  of  the  fire  he  was 
at  the  head  of  the  manufactory,  having  under  him 
two  or  three  hundred  men.  Husbanding  his  influence 
and  resources,  he  started  a  printing-office  on  his  own 
account,  and  was  on  the  broad  road  to  success  when 
he  was  invited  to  unite  his  manufactory  with  the  old 
business  under  the  new  name,  and  assume  the  man 
agement,  which  he  finally  consented  to  do.  Thus  he, 
with  the  others,  passed  through  the  fiery  furnace  un 
scathed,  and  with  them  deserved  the  success  which 
he  achieved.  Thus,  with  fresh  blood,  good  brains, 
and  ample  capital,  there  was  no  reason  apparent  why 
the  new  business  should  not  in  time  far  outstrip  the 
old,  and  on  its  centennial  in  1956  stand  unapproached 
by  any  similar  institution  in  the  new  and  grandest 
of  empires  on  the  shores  of  the  Pacific. 


INDEX. 


Abernethy,  Mrs,  mention  of,  542; 
material  furnished  by,  550. 

Adam,  L.,  reviews  'Native  Races,' 
360. 

Adams,  C.  F.,  meeting  with  Ban 
croft,  etc.,  338. 

Alaska,  material  for  Hist,  of,  551-61, 
621-3. 

Alcantara,  Emperor  Dom.  P.  de,  vis 
its  to  Bancroft's  library,  etc.,  1876, 
628-9. 

Alemany,  Archbishop  J.  S.,  archives 
furnished  by,  472-4. 

Allen,  A.,  dictation  of,  534. 

Altamirano,  Y.  M.,  appearance,  etc., 
of,  734. 

Alvarado,  J.  B.,  biog.,  etc.,  of,  407-8; 
Vallejo's  negotiations  with,  408-12; 
material  furnished  by,  etc.,  408-27. 

Amador  County,  Cal.,  name,  524. 

Amador,  J.,  dictation,  etc.,  of,  524. 

Amat,  Bishop,  meeting  with  Ban 
croft,  etc.,  496-7. 

American  Antiquarian  Society,  Ban 
croft  hon.  member  of,  361. 

American  Ethnological  Society,  Ban 
croft  hon.  member  of,  362. 

Ames,  J.  G.,  meeting  with  Bancroft, 
etc.,  351-2. 

Anderson,  A.  C.,  manuscript,  etc., 
of,  534-8. 

Anderson,  J.,  reviews  *Native  Races,' 
351. 

Andrade,  D.  J.  M.,  library  of,  185-91. 

Andree,  Dr.  K.,  reviews  'Native 
Races, '358. 

Applegate,  J.,  character,  etc.,  of, 
546-7. 

Appleton,  D.  &  Co.,  contract  with 
Bancroft,  346. 

Arce,  P.,  mention  of,  523. 

Argiiello  meets  Cerruti,  etc.,  404. 

Argiiello,  Senora,  mention  of,   405-6. 

Arnaz,  J.  de,  dictation  of,  496-7,  528. 


Ash,  Dr.  J.,  mention  of,  530;  Manu 
script,  etc.,  of,  533. 

'Atlantic  Monthly,'  reviews  'Native 
Races,'  350. 

Authors,  mention  of  various,  308-10; 
characteristics,  etc.,  of,  664-82. 

Authorship,  miseries  of,  346-7. 

A  very,  B.  P.,  mention  of,  313. 

Avila,  J.,  dictation  of,  526;  courtesy 
of,  527. 

Avila,  Senora,  528-9. 


B 


Bacon,  J.  M.,  dictation  of,  546. 

Ballou,  J.,  mention  of,  541. 

Bancroft,  A.,  mention  of,  48,  50; 
character,  49;  death  of,  55. 

Bancroft,  A.  A.,  ancestry  of,  47-8; 
extract  from  'Golden  Wedding,' 
48;  life  in  old  and  new  Granville, 
49-50;  boys'  work  in  the  olden 
time,  50;  courtship  and  marriage, 
59;  his  own  account  of  his  wooing, 
60;  removal  to  Missouri,  62-77;  in 
California,  125. 

Bancroft,  C.,  business  ventures  of, 
125. 

Bancroft,  G.,  meeting  with  H.  H. 
Bancroft,  345. 

Bancroft,  H.  H.,  works  of,  appre 
ciated,  12-15;  ancestry  and  rela 
tives,  47-55;  boyhood,  63-104; 
character,  73-7;  education,  90-104; 
early  career,  109-37;  voyage  to 
Cal.,  1852,  121;  at  Crescent  City, 
1853-5,  137-40;  homeward  trip, 
1855,  142-7;  return  to  Cal.,  1856, 
147;  firm  establ'd  by,  147-8;  first 
marriage,  151-4;  business  affairs, 
155-65,  230-1;  death  of  wife,  158- 
61;  inception  of  liter,  work,  166- 
74;  books  collected  by,  173-97, 
347,  351-3,  478-561,  618-40,  702- 
63;  library,  198-276,  562-91;  liter, 
projects,  222-9;  ill-health,  226-8; 

(799) 


800 


INDEX. 


preparation    of    material,    231-43, 
513-14;  assistants,  245-77,  365-76, 
513;  scope  of  work,   278-9,   286-8; 
despondency,    280-3;  liter,    efforts, 
287-95;     'History    of     the    Pacific 
States, '295,  581-91,  790-5;  'Native 
Races,'  295-325,    569-70,    575;  re 
views,  etc.,  of  works,  316-25,  338, 
341-2,  350-1,  357-64;  eastern  tour, 
1874,  326-64,  1876,  460-5;  meeting, 
etc.,  with  Bliss,  329-31;  with  Pal 
frey,    332-3;     with    Gray,    334-5; 
with  Lowell,    335;    with  Phillips, 
336-7;  with  Whittier,  337-8;  with 
Adams,    338;   with  Parkman,   338; 
with  Emerson,  339;  with  Howells, 
339;    with  Holmes,    339-40;    with 
Higginson,  341;  with  G.  Bancroft, 
345,    461;    with     Draper,     345-6; 
with  Nordhoff,    346;  with   Porter, 
348;  with  King,  348-9;  with  Spof- 
ford,  351-2,  461;  with  Ames,  351- 
2;  with  Sargent,  352-3;  agreement 
with  Longmans  &  Co.,  354;  corres 
pondence  with  Lubbock,  355;  with 
Spencer,    356,    362;    with   Oilman, 
356;  with  Latham,  356;  with  Lecky, 
356-7;  with  Helps,  357;  with  Daw- 
kins,    359;    with    Tylor,     359-60; 
manuscripts     procured    by,     etc., 
383-443,   461-5,    487-561,    628-49, 
739,  761-2;  negotiations,  etc.,  with 
Vallejo,  383-443;  with  Castro,  415- 
26;  second  marriage,   456-60;  visit 
to  Fremont,  etc.,  460-1;  to  Sutter, 
461-5;  trip  to  Southern  Cal.,  1874, 
478-508;     archives     collected     by, 
468-83,   493-529,   543-4,  538,  628, 
701-2,    736,    740-7,    763,    meeting, 
etc.,  with  Hayes,  478-84,   509-13; 
with  Ubach,  485;  with  Pico,  490-2; 
with  Amat,    496-7;    with  Taylor, 
497-503;    with  Vila,    503^;    with 
Gonzalez,   505;  with  Romo,  505-8; 
northern  trip,    1878,  530-49;  meet 
ing  with  Elliott,  532-3;  with  Rich 
ards,    532;    with   Tod,    536;    with 
McKinlay,     536-7;    with    Tolmie, 
537;  with   Finlayson,    537-8;   with 
Anderson,    538;     with    Helmcken, 
538-9;     with     Evans,    542;    with 
Brown,   544;    fire  in  1873,    572-3 
newspaper    collection     of,     574-5 
Draper's  letter  to,    579;    Holmes' 
579-80;  literary   method,  592-617, 
682-9;    retires  from  business,  608- 
10;     correspondence    with    Swan, 
620-1;  with  Gonzalez,  624-5;  with 
Brioso,     625;     with    Cuadra,    626, 
with    Barrios,   626;    with    Dwyer, 


632-7;  with  Taylor,  637-9;  with 
Pratt,  637-8;  Richards'  visit  to, 
639-40;  correspondence  with  Sand 
ers,  641-2;  trip  to  Mex.,  1883-4, 
700-51;  1887,  751;  meeting  with 
Diaz,  732,  739;  with  Morgan,  734; 
with  Altamirano,  734;  with  Paz, 
734-5;  with  Torres,  735;  with  Sosa, 
735;  with  Palacio,  735;  with  Her 
nandez  yDaValos,  736;  withGaray, 
738;  with  Iglesias,  738;  with  Icaz- 
balceta,  738-9;  'Chronicles  of  the 
Kings,'  753;  trip  to  Utah,  Col.  and 
New  Mex.,  1884-5,  759-63;  invest 
ments  in  San  Diego,  769-71,  789- 
90;  farm  at  Walnut  Creek,  770; 
fire  in  1886,  772-4;  effect  of  fire, 
etc.,  775-87;  business  re -organi 
zation,  788-97. 

Bancroft,  K.,  education,  326,  458; 
liter,  labors  of,  458-9;  trip  to 
Southern  Cal.,  478,  484;  to  Mex., 
700. 

Bancroft,  Mrs.,  nee  Howe,  see  Howe, 
L.  D. 

Bancroft,  Mrs.,  nee  Ketchum,  see 
Ketchum,  E. 

Bancroft,  Mrs.,  nee  Griffmg,  see 
Griflmg,  M. 

Bancroft,  J.,  mention  of,  47. 

Bancroft,  M.,  mention  of ,  112. 

Bancroft,  N.,  mention  of,  47. 

Bancroft,  R.,  mention  of,  47. 

Bancroft,  S.,  mention  of,  47;  char 
acter,  48. 

Bancroft,  S.  W.,  mention  of,  47. 

Bancroft,  W.  B.,  mention  of,  202; 
manager  of  The  Bancroft  Co.,  796- 
7. 

Bancroft  Company,  organization  of 
The,  796. 

Bandini,  Gen. ,  material  furnished  by, 
488-90. 

Bandini,  Sefiora,  mention  of,  488. 

Barientos,  M.,  biog.,  276. 

Barnes,  J.  C.,  relations  with  Ban 
croft,  146-7. 

Barrios,  J.  R.,  correspondence  with 
Bancroft,  626. 

Barroeta,  Dr,  mention  of,  702. 

Bates,  A.,  biog.,  267. 

Begbie,  Sir  M.  B.,  courtesy,  etc.,  of, 
530-1. 

Benson,  W.  H.,  at  Bancroft's  Library, 
272,  588. 

Biblioteca  Nacional,  Mexico,  descript. 
of,  740-6. 

Blanchet,  Father,  mention  of,  543. 

Blerzy,  H.,  reviews  'Native  Races,' 
360. 


INDEX 


801 


Bliss,  P.  C.,  character,  etc.,  of,  328- 

30;   relations  with   Bancroft,   etc., 

330-3,  339,  349-50;  book-collection 

of,  347. 
Bluxome,   I.,   material  furnished  by, 

etc.,  658-60. 
Bokkelen,  Major,  material  furnished 

by,  540. 

Bonilla,  Sefiora,  courtesy  of,  528. 
Booth,  information  furnished  by,  541. 
Bosquetti,  career  of,  220-1. 
Bot,  Father,  courtesy  of,  526. 
Botello,  N.,  dictation  of,  527. 
Bowman,    A.,    mention    of,   273;    in 

Bancroft's  employ,  540-1. 
Brady,  information  furnished  by,  554. 
Brewer,  Professor,  mention  of,  328. 
Briggs,  L.  H.,  material  furnished  by, 

540. 
Brioso,  Minister,  correspondence  with 

Bancroft,  625. 
British   Columbia,  material  for  hist. 

of,  530-40,  549. 
Brockhaus,  F.  A.,  publishers  'Native 

Races,'  360. 
Brown,  J.,  agent  for  '  Native  Races, ' 

354-5. 
Brown,  J.  H.,  material  furnished  by, 

544,  550. 

Brown  Valley,   mining  in,  1852,  126. 
Browne,  J.  R.,  mention  of,  313. 
Browne,  R.,  reviews    ' Native  Races', 

323-4. 
Bryant,    W.    C.,  letter  to   Bancroft, 

351. 
Buckingham,  W.,  material  furnished 

by,  535. 
Buffalo   Historical  Society,    Bancroft 

hon.  member  of,  361. 
Burgos,  bookstores  of,  184. 
Butler,  J.  L.,  material  furnished  by, 

540. 


California,  condition  of,  1856,  8-9; 
development,  etc.,  of,  9-11;  litera 
ture  in,  12^1,  173-4;  effect  of  cli 
mate,  24-7;  migration  to,  57-8; 
overtrading  in,  124;  mining  in,  124- 
7;  credit  of,  146-7;  effect  of  civil 
war  on,  154-5;  material  for  hist, 
of,  383-443,  468-529,  618-20,  631, 
647-9,  744-6;  archives  of,  468-83. 

'California  Inter  Pocula,'  mention  of, 
650-2. 

'  California  Pastoral ',  mention  of, 
650. 

Camping,  descript.  of,  693-5. 

Carlyle,  Thomas,  quotation  from,  36. 

LIT.  IND.    51 


Carr,  W.  J.,  mention  of,  272. 

Carrillo,  P.,  papers,  etc.,  of,  525. 

Cassidy,  Father,  material  furnished 
by,  434. 

Castro,  M.,  material  obtained  from, 
etc.,  415-26,  430. 

Cazeneuve,  F.  G.,  mention  of,  738. 

Ceballos,  J.,  mention  of,  738. 

Central  America,  material  for  hist, 
of,  623-31. 

Cerruti,  E.,  biog.,  etc.,  of,  365-76;  in 
Bancroft's  employ,  365-76,  383^44; 
negotiations,  etc.,  with  Gen.  Val- 
lejo,  383-95;  'Ramblings'  MS., 
400-5;  intercourse  with  Gov.  Alva- 
rado,  410-13,  417-27;  with  Castro, 
416-24;  with  Vallejo,  428-39;  death 
of,  444-5. 

Chadwick,  Gov.  S.  F.,  mention  of, 
542. 

Charles,  W.,  material  furnished  by, 
535. 

Chimalpopoca,  A.,  meeting  with 
Bancroft,  etc.,  735-6. 

Cholula,  descript.  of,  748-50. 

'  Chronicles  of  the  Builders,'  plan  pre 
sented,  753-9. 

Church,  J.  A.,  reviews,  'Native 
Races ',  351. 

Clarke,   Mrs.   S.   A.,  mention  of,  545. 

Clarke,  Rev.  J.  F.,  mention  of,   338. 

Climate,  effect  of  on  liter,  work,  24-7. 

Cohen,  Miss,  information  furnished 
by,  554. 

Coleman,  H.  R.,  material  collected 
by,  353. 

Coleman,  W.  T.,  material  furnished 
by,  660. 

Colley,  connection  with  The  Bancroft 
Co.,  796. 

Colorado,  material  for  hist,  of,  761-2. 

Comapala,  Father,  meeting  with  Ban 
croft,  etc.,  496. 

Compton,  P.  N.,  dictation  of,  533-4. 

Cook,  Capt.,  in  Alaska,  1758,  557. 

Cooke,  W.  B.,  partnership  with 
Kenny,  1852,  134-5,  141. 

Copperthwaite,  T.  M.,  biog.,  269-70. 

Corbaley,  R.  C.,  mention  of,  628. 

Corona,  R.  V.,  mention  of,  275. 

Coronel,  I.,  papers  of,  510,  525. 

Cosmos,  A.  de,  mention  of,  535. 

Coutts,  C.  J.,  information  furnished 
by,  485,  490. 

Crane,  Dr,  kindness  of,  527. 

Crease,  Justice,  mention  of,  548. 

Crescent  City,  descript.  of,  1853,  136- 
40. 

Crowell  &  Fairfield,  Bancroft's  con 
nection  with,  1853-4,  137-8,  140. 


802 


INDEX. 


Cuadra,     President,     correspondence 

of,  625-6. 
Gushing,  C.,  sale  of  library,  194. 


Damon,    S.    E.,    material   furnished 

by,  631. 

Dana  C.,  courtesy  of,  528. 
Davidson,  G.,  anecdote  of,  314. 
Dawkins,  W.  B.,  correspondence  with 

Bancroft,  359. 

Deady,  M.  P.,  dictation  of,  546. 
Deans,  J.,  dictation  of,  534. 
Dempster,     material    furnished    by, 

etc.,  657-^1. 
Denny,  A.,  information  furnished  by, 

541. 
Derby,   G.    H.,   mention   of,    89,  99, 

111;  character,  etc.,  113-14,  117-18; 

business    ventures,    117-19;    death 

of,  132;  estate,  133-5. 
Derby,  J.  C.,  mention  of,  347. 
Derby,  Mrs.,  marriage  of,  88;  decease 

of   husband,   1852,  132-3;  relations 

with  Bancroft,  143-6. 
Deschamps,    remarks  on  the  Andra- 

de  collection,  189-90. 
Diaz,  President  P.,  Bancroft's  meet 
ing  with,  732,   739;  manuscript  of, 

739;  career,  etc.,  of,  739-40. 
Dibblee,   material  furnished  by,  528. 
Dominguez,    D.,    material    furnished 

by,  528. 
Dorland,T.  A.  C.,  connection  with  The 

Bancroft  Co.,  796. 
Douglas,   J.    D.,    material  furnished 

by,  534. 

Douglas,  Lady,  mention  of,  530,  534. 
Dowell,  B.  F.,  mention  of,  548. 
Downey,  Gov.,  mention  of,  489. 
Draper,  Dr,    meeting  with  Bancroft, 

etc.,  345-6,  579. 

Dry  Creek,  mining  on,  1852,  126-7. 
Dwyer,  J.,  correspondence  with  Ban 
croft,  632-7. 


E 


Earhart,  R.  P.,  material  furnished 
by,  543. 

Education,  discussion  on,  104-5. 

Egan,  J.,  kindness  of,  527. 

Eldridge,  biog.,  276. 

Elliott,  Minister,  meeting  with  Ban 
croft,  etc.,  530-3. 

Ellison,  S.,  material  furnished  by,  763. 

Elwyn,  T.,  material  furnished  by, 
533. 


Emerson,  R.  W.,  meeting  with  Ban- 

croft,  339. 

Estudillo,  J.  M.,  dictation  of,  526. 
Etholine,  Gov.,  courtesy  of,  623. 
Evans,    E.,    material  furnished   by, 

542,  620. 
Ezquer,  I.,  dictation  of,  528. 


Fages,  Gov.  P.,  works  of,  442. 
Fall,  J.  C.,  mention  of,  125. 
Farrelly,  Father,  material  furnished 

by,  528. 
Farwell,  S.,    material    furnished  by, 

535. 

Fernandez,  Capt. ,  mention  of,  406. 
Fernandez,  Dr  R.,  mention  of,  738. 
Field,  Judge,  meeting  with  Bancroft, 

461. 

Fierro,  F.,  mention  of,  426. 
Finlayson,   R.,    manuscript    of,    534, 

537-8. 
Fisher,  W.  M.,  at  Bancroft's  library, 

235-6;  biog.,  261-3. 
Fitch,    Mrs,    material  furnished    by, 

439. 

Fitzsimons,  Father,  information  fur 
nished  by,  626. 
Flores,  J.  M.,  meeting  with  Cerruti, 

etc.,  404-5. 

Ford,  manuscript  of,  648. 
Foster,  J.,  information  furnished  by, 

485. 

Foster,  S.  C.,  mention  of,  493-6. 
Fremont,    Gen.    J.    C.,  meeting  with 

Bancroft,  460-1;  negotiations  with 

Marriott,  etc.,  642-5. 
Fremont,    Mrs,    meeting    with   Ban 
croft,    460-1;   correspondence  with 

Marriott,  643-4. 
Frisbie,   Gen.,   material  promised  by, 

437. 

Fuentes  y  Muniz,  J. ,  mention  of,  738. 
Fuller,    F.,    ability,    etc.,    of,    237-8; 

biog.,  259-61. 


G 


Galan,    Gov.,    at  Bancroft's  library, 

273,  563-4. 
'  Galaxy ',  review  of  '  Native  Races  ', 

351. 

Galindo,  C. ,  mention  of,  434. 
Galindo,  E.,  dictation  of,  524. 
Garay,  F.  de,  meeting  with  Bancroft, 

etc.,  738. 

Garcia,  I.,  dictation  of,  528. 
Gilman,  D.   C.,   proposes  removal  of 

library,    320-1;  review  of   'Native 


INDEX. 


Races ',  321-3;  correspondence  with 
Bancroft,  356. 

Gilrnour,  J.  H.,  in  Bancroft's  employ, 
272,  587-8. 

'  Globus  ',  review  of  '  Native  Races ', 
358. 

Godkin,  meeting  with  Bancroft,  etc., 
346,  349. 

Goldschmidt,  A.,  at  Bancroft's  li 
brary,  235,  563,  571-5. 

Gomez,  A.,  material  collected  by, 
523^. 

Gomez,  V.  P.,  biog.,  274;  at  Ban 
croft's  library,  274-5. 

Gonzalez,  Father,  meeting  with  Ban 
croft,  505. 

Gonzalez,  President,  correspondence 
with  Bancroft,  624-5. 

Gonzalez,  R.,  dictation  of,  528. 

Good,  Rev.,  manuscript  of,  536. 

Granville,  Ohio,  settlement  of,  56-9; 
descript.  of,  80-7. 

Gray,  Dr.  A.,  meeting  with  Ban 
croft,  328,  334. 

Griffin,  G.  B.,  biog.,  273. 

Griffing,  M.,  character,  etc.,  of,  456- 
8;  marriage  with  H.  H.  Bancroft, 
457-60,  liter,  labors,  458-9;  jour 
nal,  461;  arrival  in  San  Francisco, 
465-6;  trip  to  Northern  Cal.,  1878, 
530^9;  material  obtained  by,  535- 
6;  trip  to  Utah,  etc.,  1884-5,  759-63. 

Greenbaum,  courtesy  of,  557. 

Grover,  Senator,  dictation  of,  545. 


Hale,    E.    E.,    correspondence    with 

Bancroft,  etc.,  340. 
Haller,  information  furnished  by,  541. 
Hamilton,  quotation  from,  684. 
Hancock,  S.,  manuscript  of,  540. 
Hansford,  Mrs  A.  J.  manuscript  of,  541 
Harcourt,  T.  A.,  biog.,  264-5. 
Harris,  courtesy  of,  530. 
Hartnell,  W.,  papers  of,  430-1;  biog., 

430-1. 

Harvey,  Mrs,  mention  of,  542. 
Hawes,  Father,  kindness  of,  524. 
Hawthorne,  Dr  J.  C.,  mention  of,  543. 
Hawthorne,  N.,  mention  of,  14. 
Hayes,  Judge  B.,  Bancroft's  visit  to, 

478-84;  collection,  etc.,  of,  478-84, 

509-12,  527,  571-2;  correspondence 

with  Bancroft,  510-12. 
Heber,  R.,  library  of,  177. 
Helmcken,  Dr,  material  furnished  by, 

533;  appearance,  etc.,  of,  538-9. 
Helps,    Sir  A.,  correspondence   with 

Bancroft,  357. 


Hernandez  y  Davalos,  J.  E.,  collec 
tion,  etc.,  of,  736-7. 

Hibben,  T.  N.,  courtesy  of,  530. 

Higginson,  'T.  W.,  correspondence 
with  Bancroft,  etc.,  341-2. 

Hill,  N.  D.,  material  furnished  by,  540 

Hill,  information  furnished  by,  541. 

Hills,  G.,  material  furnished  by,  535. 

Hillyer,  E.,  character,  etc.,  of,  98-9. 

History  Building,  erection,  etc.,  of 
The,  789,  796. 

History  Company,  organization  of  The, 
789-90. 

'  History  of  the  Pacific  States,'  appre 
ciation  of  the,  12-15;  inception  of 
work,  166-74;  books  collected  for, 
173-97,  347,  351-3,  478-561,  618-40, 
702-63;  preparation  of  material, 
231-43,  581-  5;  scope  of  work,  278- 
9,  286-8;  introd.  to,  288,  291;  name 
of  work,  315-16;  manuscripts  pro 
cured  for,  383-443,  461-5,  487-90, 
494-561,  628-49,  739,  761-2;  ar 
chives,  468-83,  493-529,  543-4, 
558,  628,  701-2,  736,  740-7,  763; 
printing  and  publication,  586-91, 

Holmes,  O.  W.,  correspondence  with 

Bancroft,  etc.,  339^0,  579-80. 
Hopkins,    R.    C.,    custodian   of    Cal. 

archives,  469. 

Horton,  information  furnished  by, 541. 
Houghton,    H.    O.,    &   Co.,    publish. 

'Native  Races,'  336. 
Howard,  Col,  courtesy  of,  495. 
Howe,  C.,  biog.,  etc.,  of,  51,  54-5. 
Howe,  E.,  mention  of,  54. 
Howe,  J.,  biog.,  54. 
Howe,  L.  D.,  biog.,  etc.,  of,  50,  59-64. 
How  ells,  meeting  with  Bancroft,  etc., 

339,  349-50. 
Hudson's  Bay  company,  employes  of, 

531. 
Hunt,  partnership  with   Bancroft  & 

Co.,  1856,  149. 

I 

Icazbalceta,  J.  G.,  library,  etc.,    of, 

738-9. 
Iglesias,     President,     meeting     with 

Bancroft,  738. 
'Independent,'      reviews,        'Native 

Races,'  362. 
Index,  plan  of,  238-40;  results  from, 

241 ;  a  universal  index,  243. 
Innokentie,  Bishop,  courtesy  of,  623. 


Jackson,  E.,  mention  of,  358. 


804 


INDEX. 


Jansenns,  A.,  dictation  of,  528. 
Johnson,  C.  R.,  mention  of,  489. 
Johnstone,  M.,  marriage  of,  327. 
Jones,    C.    C.,    jun.,  reviews  'Native 

Races, '362. 

Journalism,  influence,  etc.,  of,  31-40. 
Juarez,  Capt.  C.,  material  promised 

by,  437-8. 

K 

Kasherarof,  Father,  information  fur 
nished  by,  554. 

Kellog,  Miss,  information  by,  554. 

Kelly,  in  Bancroft's  employ,  512. 

Kemp,  A.,  biog.,  267-8. 

Kenny,  G.  L.,  character,  etc.,  of, 
117-18;  voyage  to  Cal.,  1852,  119- 
21;  partnership  with  Cooke,  134-5, 
141;  with  Bancroft,  147-8,  154. 

Ketchum,  E.,  marriage  of,  151-4. 

King,  C.,  character  of,  348;  meeting 
with  Bancroft,  etc.,  348-9;  reviews 
'  Native  Races, '  350,  correspondence 
with  Bancroft,  350-1. 

Klinkofstrom,  M.,  mention  of,  621. 

Knight,  W.  H.,  'Hand  Book  Alma 
nac,  173;  connection  with  Bancroft's 
firm,  173,  218-19. 

'Kolnische  Zeitung,'  reviews  'Native 
Races,'  358. 

Kraszewski,  M.,  dictation  of,  526. 


'La  Republique  Francaise,'   reviews 

'Native  Races, '360. 
Labadie,  biog.,  275. 
Lacy,  Rer.,  at  Crescent  City,  138. 
Lane,  Gen.  J.,  material  furnished  by, 

543,  547. 
Lansdale,  M.,  information  furnished 

by,  541. 

Larkin,  A. ,  mention  of,  436. 
Larkin,  H.,  mention  of,  273. 
Larkin,  T.  0.,  biog.,  435;  documents, 

etc.,  of,  435-6. 
Latham,    Dr,    correspondence    with 

Bancroft,  356. 

Lawsoii,  J.  S.,  manuscript  of,  540. 
'Le  Temps,' reviews  'Native  Races,' 

360. 
Lecky,   W.    E.    H.,    correspondence 

with  Bancroft,  356. 
Lefevre,  H.,  correspondence  of,  627. 
Levashef,  Capt.,  in  Alaska,  1768,  557. 
Library,   the   Bancroft,   descript.    of, 

198-244;  plans  and  cuts,  198,  200- 

1, 203-5, 207,  209,  211;  staff,  245-76. 
Literature,  evolution  of,  4-8;  in  Cal., 

12-41;  effect  of  climate  on,  24-7; 


of    wealth,    27-30;    of  journalism, 

31-40. 

Lombardo,  A.,  mention  of,  738. 
London,  book  collections  of,  181-3. 
Long,    T.  H.,  in  Bancroft's  employ, 

531. 
Longfellow,    H.    W.,  correspondence 

with  Bancroft,  etc.,  336-8. 
Longmans  &  Co.,  agents  for  'Native 

Races,'  354. 

Lorenzana,  A.,  dictation  of,  528. 
Love  joy,  A.  L.,  dictation  of,  546. 
Lowell,  J.  R.,  meeting  with  Bancroft, 

etc.,  335. 

Lubbock,  Sir  J.,  'Native  Races  '  dedi 
cated  to,  355. 

Lubiensky,  Count,  mention  of,  399. 
Lugo,  J.,  papers  of,  525. 
Liitke,  Admiral,  courtesy  of,  623. 


M 


Madrid,  bookstores  of,  184. 

Maisonneuve  et  Cie,  publish  'Native 
Races, '360. 

Malarin,  J.,  mention  of,  647-8. 

Manero,  V.  E.,  mention  of,  738. 

Manuscripts,  Gen.  Vallejo's,  388-433; 
Capt.  Fernandez',  406;  Gov.  Alva- 
rado's  408-27;  Castro's  415-26; 
Pico's  426,  525;  Estudillo's,  427, 
526;  Thompson's,  429;  Hartnell's, 
430-1;  J.  de  J.  Vallejo's,  433-5; 
Larkin's,  435-6;  Capt.  Juarez',  437- 
8;  Gen.  Sutter's  461-5,  524;  Gen. 
Bandini's,  487-90;  Warner's,  494-5, 
525;  Judge  Sepulveda's,  495;  Wid- 
ney's,  495;  Valdes',  496-7,  528; 
Arnaz',  496-7,  528;  Taylor's,  498-9; 
Santa  Barbara  mission,  506-8; 
Judge  Hayes',  478-84,  509-12; 
Guerra's,  517-22;  Galindo's,  524; 
Amador's,  524;  Coronel's,  525;  Re- 
quena's,  525;  Carrillo's,  525;  Lugo's, 
525;  Wilson's,  526;  Vega's,  526; 
Perez',  526;  Vejar's,  526;  White's, 
526;  Romero's,  526;  Foster's,  526; 
A  Vila's,  526;  Kraszewski 's,  526; 
Osuma's,  526;  Botello's,  527;  Valle's, 
527-8;  Ord's,  528;  Jansenns',  528; 
Lorenzana's,  528;  Gonzalez',  528; 
Nidever's,  528;  Garcia's,  528; 
Esquer's,  528;  Sproat's,  533;  Pem- 
berton's,  533;  Ash's,  533;  Comp- 
ton's,  534;  Muir's,  534;  Allen's,  534; 
Deans',  534;  Anderson's,  534-8;  Tol- 
mie's,  534;  Finlayson's,  534,  537-8; 
McKinlay's,  534;  Charles',  535; 
Good's,  536;  Tod's,  536-7;  McKin 
lay's  536-7j  Swan's,  540;  Bokke- 


INDEX. 


805 


len's,  540;  Lawsok's,  540;  Parker's, 
541;  Lane's,  543,  547;  Grover's,  545; 
Nesmith's,  546;  Moss',  546;  Love- 
joy's,  546;  Bacon's,  546;  Fonts',  546; 
Judge  Deady's,  546;  Judge  Strong's, 
546;  Ross',  547;  Evans',  620;  Pow 
ers',  621;  Oslo's,  647-8;  Ford's,  648; 
Dempster's,  660;  Bluxome's,  660; 
Coleman's,  660;  Diaz',  739;  Wood 
ruff's,  761;  Richards',  761;  Stone's, 
762. 

Marriage,  remarks  on,  446-56. 

Marriott,  G.,  correspondence  with 
the  Fremont's,  643-5. 

Marvin,  E.,  courtesy  of,  530. 

Martinez,  M.  F.,  mention  of,  275-6. 

Massachusetts  Historical  Society, 
Bancroft,  hon.  member  of,  361. 

Mast,  C.  L.,  material  furnished  by, 
642. 

Maximilian,  Emperor,  library,  etc., 
of,  188. 

Mayer,  B.,  mention  of,  313;  meeting 
with  Bancroft,  461. 

McAuley,  L.,  material  furnished  by, 
631. 

Mclntyre,  information  furnished  by, 
554;  mummy  presented  by,  555 

McKay,  material  furnished  by,  554. 

McKinlay,  A.,  manuscript,  etc.,  of, 
534-7. 

McKinney,  clerk,  courtesy  of,  524. 

Mellus,  diary  of,  527. 

Mexico,  libraries,  etc.,  of,  185-91, 
701-3,  735,  740-51;  material  for 
hist,  of,  627-8,  700-51;  descript. 
sketch  of,  700-33;  staging  in,  707- 
10;  treasure  trains,  711;  haciendas, 
711;  agricult.,  711-12;  gambling, 
etc.,  724-5;  marriage,  725-6;  man- 
ufact.,  727-8;  traffic,  etc.,  728-31; 
superstition,  737. 

Mexico,  City,  descript.  of,  712-33; 
libraries  of,  740-7. 

Minor,  Dr  T. ,  mention  of,  540. 

Minto,  J.,  information  furnished  by, 
545. 

Minto,  Mrs,  information  furnished 
by,  545. 

Mitropolski,  Father,  material  fur 
nished  by,  554. 

Money,  use  and  abuse  of,  100-3. 

Montana,  material  for  hist,  of,  641-2. 

Montard,  Father,  material  furnished 
by,  557. 

Morgan,  Minister,  Bancroft's  meeting 
with,  734. 

Mora,  Bishop,  material  furnished  by, 
525-6. 


Moreno,   Senora,   material   furnished 

by,  526-7. 

Mormonism,  631-40,  759-61. 
Morrison,  G.  H.,  biog.,  795-6. 
Morton,  Mrs  L.,   material  furnished 

by,  548. 

Moss,  S.  W.,  dictation  of,  546. 
Muir,  M.,  dictation  of,  534. 
Murray,   E.  F.,  employed  by  Judge 

Hayes,    510-12;  by  Bancroft,   513-- 

23;  material   collected   by,  513-23, 

528. 
Mut,  Father,  courtesy  of,  527. 


N 


Naranjo,  Gen.,  mention  of,  738. 

'  Nation, '  reviews  '  Native  Races, '  351 . 

'  Native  Races  of  the  Pacific  States, ' 
plan  of  the,  295-301;  elaboration, 
302-4;  contents,  303;  work  on  the, 
304-5;  publication,  306-26;  reviews, 
etc.,  316-25,  338,  341-2,  350-1, 
357-64;  cuts,  569;  type,  etc.,  569- 
70;  completion  of,  579-81. 

Nemos,  W.,  at  Bancroft's  library, 
238,  243,  290,  565,  587;  biog.,  251- 
5. 

Nesmith,  J.  W.,  manuscript,  etc.,  of, 
546. 

New  Mexico,  material  for  hist,  of, 
628,  763. 

Newkirk,  E.  P.,  biog.,  268-9. 

Nidever,  dictation  of,  528. 

Nordhoff,  C.,  mention  of,  12;  meeting 
with  Bancroft,  346. 

'North  American  Review,'  on  Ban 
croft's  works,  338. 

Northwest  coast,  material  for  hist,  of, 
620-1. 

Nutchuks,  legend  of  the,  555-6. 


0 


Oak,  H.  L.,  editor  of  the  'Occident,' 
219;  Bancroft's  librarian,  220-4, 
229,  234,  238,  243,  413,  424-5,  434, 
474-7,  513-14,  563,  571,  587,  649; 
biog.,  246-51,  690-1;  trip  to  south 
ern  Cal.,  478-508. 

Oak,  0.,  at  Bancroft's  library,  235. 

Oca,  Bishop  I.  M.  de,  library  of,  701. 

Ogden,  P.  S.,  mention  of,  537. 

O'Keefe,  Father,  mention  of,  505. 

Olaguibel,  Senor,  'Impresiones  Cele- 
bres,'748. 

Olvera,  A.,  meeting  with  Bancroft, 
etc.,  492-3. 

Olvera,  C.,  collection  of,  529. 

Ord,  Mrs,  dictation  of,  528. 


806 


INDEX. 


Oregon,  material  for  hist,  of,  541-51, 

620-631. 

Ortega,  Senor,  library  of,  701. 
Osio,  manuscript  of,  647-8. 
Osuma,  J.,  dictation  of,  526. 
*  Overland  Monthly,'  reviews,  etc.,  of 

Bancroft's  works,  314-15,  319-24. 


Pacheco,  Gen.  C.,  mention  of,  738. 

Palacio,  V.  R.,  library,  etc.,   of,  735. 

Palfrey,  J.  G.,  meeting  with  Ban 
croft,  etc.,  332-3. 

Palmer,  G.,  mention  of,  132. 

Palmer,  H.,  death  of,  132. 

Palmer,  Gen.  J.,  dictation  of,  545-6. 

Palmer,  Mrs,  nee  Bancroft,  see  Ban 
croft,  E. 

Palou,  Father  F.,  works  of,  411,  441. 

Parker,  Capt.,  dictation  of ,  541. 

Parkman,  F.,  reviews  Bancroft's 
works,  etc.,  338. 

Parrish,  missionary  labors  of,  545. 

Pavlof,  information  furnished  by, 
554-5. 

Paz,  I.,  mention  of,  734-5. 

Peatfield,  J.  J.,  biog.,  265-7. 

Pemberton,  J.  D.,  material  furnished 
by,  533. 

Peralta,  F.,  Cerruti's  meeting  with, 
etc.,  400-1. 

Perez,  A.,  dictation  of,  526. 

Petroff,  I.,  biog.,  270-2;  trip  to 
Alaska,  551-61;  material  procured 
by,  553-61. 

Pettigrove,     material     furnished  by, 

Phelps,  S.,  mention  of,  50-1. 

Philadelphia  Numismatic  Society, 
Bancroft  hon.  member  of,  361. 

Phillips,  W. ,  meeting  and  correspond 
ence  with  Bancroft,  etc.,  336-7. 

Pico,  A.,  pleasantry,  490-3. 

Pico,  C.,  material  furnished  by,  528. 

Pico,  J.  de  J.,  courtesy  of,  528. 

Pico,  J.  R.,  material  furnished  by, 
426. 

Pico,  M.  I. ,  courtesy  of,  528. 

Pico,  P.,  dictation  of,  525. 

Pina,  M.,  at  Bancroft's  library,  275. 

Pinart,  A.  L.,  material  furnished  by, 
621-2,  627;  biog.,  622. 

Pinto,  R.,  collection  of,  529. 

Plummer,  material  furuished  by,  540. 

Pomeroy,  T.  S.,  mention  of,  139-41. 

'  Popular  Tribunals, '  preparation, 
etc.,  of  the,  655-63. 

Porter,  President,  meeting  with  Ban 
croft,  348. 


Powell,   Major,   meeting    with  Ban 
croft,  461. 

Powers,  S.,  manuscript  of,  621. 

Pratt,  G.,  character,  etc.,  of,  48. 

Pratt,  O.,  correspondence,  etc.,  with 
Bancroft,  637-8. 

Prieto,  meeting  with  Bancroft,  738. 

Pry  or,  P.,  kindness  of,  527. 

Puebla,  City,  libraries,  etc.,  of,  748- 
51. 

R 

Railroads,  overland,  effect  of,  on  busi 
ness,  164-5. 
Ramirez,   J.  F.,  sale  of  library,  194- 

6. 
Read,  3L,  agent  for  'Native  Races,' 

353-4. 
'Record  Union,'  article  on  Bancroft's 

collection,  316. 
Requena,  M.,  papers  of,  525. 
Revilla     Gigedo,     Count,     collection 

made  by,  742-3. 
'  Revue     Britannique, '     on     '  Native 

Races, '360. 
'Revue   Litteraire   et   Politique,'   on 

'Native  Races, '360. 
Richards,  F.    D.,   visit  to  Bancroft, 

etc.,  1880,  630-1. 
Richards,     Gov.,     mention     of,    530; 

meeting  with  Bancroft,  etc.,  532. 
Rico,  F.,  mention  of,  523. 
Ripley,  G.,  mention  of,  346. 
Rivas,  A.  M.,  material  furnished  by, 

626. 

Robinson,  A.,  mention  of,  489. 
Robson,    J.,    material   furnished   by, 

535. 

Rollins,  H.  G.,  mention  of,  471. 
Romero,  J.  M.,  dictation  of,  526. 
Romo,    Father,    appearance   of,   505; 

meeting     with     Bancroft,      505-8; 

material  furnished  by,  505-8,  515- 

18. 

Rosborough,  J.  B.,  mention  of,  548. 
Roscoe,  F.  J.,  material  furnished  by, 

535. 

Ross,  J.  E.,  dictation  of,  547. 
Roussel,  Father,  courtesy  of,  528. 
Rubio,  J.,  mention  of,  741. 
Rubio,    M.    R.,    character,    etc.,    of, 

739. 


S 


Salas,  J.  M.  de,  mention  of,  743. 
San   Fernando   College,  archives   at, 

468,  473. 
San  Francisco,  descript.  of,  1852,  121- 


INDEX. 


807 


San    Luis    Potosi,    state  library  of, 

702-3. 

Sanchez,  J.,  mention  of,  738-9. 
Sanders,  W.  F.,  correspondence  with 

Bancroft,  641-2. 
Sargent,  Senator  A.  A.,  mention  of, 

Savage,  T.,  biog.,  255-9;  Bancroft's 
assistant,  470-3,  523-9;  material 
collected  by,  523-9. 

Sawyer,  C.  H.,  mention  of,  435. 

Schiefner,  A.,  courtesy  of,  621-2. 

*  Scribner's  Monthly, '  reviews  '  Native 
Races, '341-2. 

Scudder,  meeting  with  Bancroft,  etc., 
336. 

Seghers,  Bishop,  material  furnished 
by,  557. 

Selva,  C.,  material  furnished  by,  625. 

Sepulveda,  Judge,  mention  of,  489, 
manuscript  of,  495. 

Serra,  Father  J.,  mention  of,  441; 
sketch  of  San  Diego  mission,  480. 

Shashnikof,  Father  I.,  material  fur 
nished  by,  557-9. 

Short,  Gen.  P.,  mention  of,  431. 

Siliceo,  L.,  mention  of,  738. 

Simpson,  S.  L.,  mention  of,  274. 

Sladen,  Col,  material  furnished  by, 
543. 

Smith,  0.,  mention  of,  555. 

Soberanes,  in  Bancroft's  employ,  415- 
23. 

Society  of  California  Pioneers,  ma 
terial  furnished  by,  619. 

Sola,  Gov.  P.  V.  de,  mention  of,  442. 

Sosa,  F.,  mention  of,  735. 

Spaulding,  Rev.  H.  H,,  works  of,  551. 

Spencer,  H.,  correspondence  with 
Bancroft,  356,  -862. 

Spencer,  W.  G.,  material  furnished 
by,  540. 

Spofford,  meeting  with  Bancroft,  etc., 
351-2,  461. 

Sproat,  G.  M.,  manuscript  of,  533. 

Squier,  E.  G.,  library  of,  193-4;  col 
lection  purchased  by  Bancroft,  629- 
31. 

Ssootchetnees,  legend  of  the,  555-6. 

Stanton,  E.  M.,  mention  of,  469. 

Stafeifk,  information  furnished  by, 
554. 

Stearns,  Mrs,  mention  of,  488. 

Stevens,  H.,  library  of,  193;  mate 
rials  procured  by,  196. 

Stewart,  G.  W.,  material  furnished 
by,  631. 

Stone,  Judge,  manuscript  of,  762. 

Stone,  N.  J.,  manager  of  publishing 


department,     586-7,     790,     793-5; 

biog.,  793-4. 
Strong,  Judge  W.,   mention  of,   542; 

dictation  of,  546. 

Stuart,  G.,  material  furnished  by,  641. 
Sutter,   Gen.    J.    A.,  Bancroft's  visit 

to,  461-5;  manuscript  furnished  by, 

465. 

Swan,    Judge    J.    G.,    material   fur 
nished     by,    540;      correspondence 

with  Bancroft,  620-1. 


Tarns,  S., -mention  of,  436. 

Taylor,  Dr  A.  S.,  Bancroft's  visit  to, 
497-503;  collection  and  works  of, 
498-506. 

Taylor,  J.,  correspondence  with  Ban 
croft,  etc.,  637-9,  760. 

Thompson,  materials  furnished  by, 
429. 

Thornton,  J.  Q.,  mention  of,  545. 

'  Times  '  (London),  reviews  '  Native 
Races',  358. 

Tod,   J.,   manuscript,  etc.,  of,  536-7. 

Tolmie,  W.  F.,  manuscript  of,  534. 

Toluca,  library  of,  747. 

Toro,  J.,  mention  of,  738. 

Torres,  V.   G.,   journal,  etc.,  of,  735. 

Tourgee,  A.  W.,  mention  of,  767-8. 

Trevett,  M.,  marriage  of,  154. 

Trevett,  Mrs,  nee  Bancroft,  see  Ban 
croft,  M. 

Truman,  Major,  mention  of,  489. 

Turner,  L.,  information  furnished  by, 
557. 

Tuthill,  F.,  'History  of  California', 
311. 

Tylor,  E.  B.,  correspondence  with 
Bancroft,  359-60. 


U 


Ubach,    Father,    collection,    etc.,    of, 

485. 
Utah,    material  for  hist,  of,  631-41, 

759-61. 


Valdes,   R.,  dictation  of,  496-7,  528. 

Vallarta,  F.  L.,  mention  of,  738. 

Valle,  I.  del,  dictation,  etc.,  of,  527-8. 

Vallejo,  I.,  biog.,  440-2. 

Vallejo,  J.  de  J.,  dictation,  etc.,  of, 
433-5. 

Vallejo,  Gen.  M.  de  G.,  biog.  etc.,  of, 
376-82;  Bancroft's  negotiations, 
etc,,  with,  383-99;  'Historia  de 


808 


INDEX. 


California'  MS.,  396-8,  428-43; 
tour  of,  405-6;  negotiations,  etc., 
with  Alvarado,  408-12;  'Recuerdos 
Historicos'  MS.,  413;  correspon 
dence  with  Bancroft,  416-17,  429- 
32,  436-^3;  intercourse  with  Cer- 
ruti,  428-39. 

Vallejo,  Major  S.,  mention  of,  387-8. 

Vega,  Gen.  P.,  material  furnished 
by,  627-8. 

Vega,  V.    dictation  of,  526. 

Vejar,  P.,  dictation,  etc.,  of,  526. 

Veniaminof,  I.,  courtesy  of,  623. 

Victor,  Mrs  F.  F.,  nee  Fuller,  see 
Fuller,  F. 

Vigil,  J.  M.,  mention  of,  738,  740. 

Vila,  Father  J.,  Bancroft's  visit  to, 
503-4. 

Villarasa,  Father,  material  furnished 
by,  626-7. 

Vowel,  A.  W.,  material  furnished 
by,  533. 


W 


Walden,  J.,  catalogue  prepared  by 
181,  196-7. 

Waldo,  D.,  mention  of,  544-5. 

Walker,  J.,  relations  with  Bancroft, 
327. 

Warner,  C.  D.,  introduction  to  Ban 
croft,  etc.,  328,  363. 


Warner,  J.  J.,  'Reminiscences',  494-5. 

Watts,  F.,  marriage  of,  155. 

Watts,  Judge  J.   S.,   mention  of,  155. 

Welch,  C.,  at  Bancroft's  library,  272. 

West,  Capt.,  mention  of,  406. 

Whitaker,  J.,  mention  of,  181;  books 
purchased  by,  190-2;  correspon 
dence  with  Bancroft,  195-7. 

White  E.,  material  furnished  by,  543. 

White  M.,  dictation  of,  526. 

Whittier,  J.  G.,  meeting  with  Ban 
croft,  etc.,  337-8. 

Whymper,  F.,  mention  of,  313. 

Widney,   R.   M.,  manuscript  of,  495. 

Wilghtnee,  legend  of,  556. 

Willey,  Dr  H.  S.,  courtesy  of,  648. 

Wilson,  B.  D.,  dictation  of,  526. 

Winsor,  J.,  'Narrative  and  Critical 
History  of  America',  764-8. 

Woodruff,  W.,  material  furnished 
by,  760-1. 

Wyoming,  material  for  hist,  of,  762-3. 


Yesler,  information  furnished  by,  541. 
Yndico,  J.,  mention  of,  738. 


Zakharof,  information  furnished  by, 

554. 
Zaldo,  R.  de,  mention  of,  399. 


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